


Fickle Reticence

by Helena_Hathaway



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Alternate Universe - College/University, Cissexism, College, Demisexuality, Fluff and Humor, Frerard, Gender Issues, Genderqueer, Genderqueer Character, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Humor, I refuse to tag this as Crossdressing, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mistaken Identity, Nonbinary Character, Other, Social Issues, gender fluid, gender fluidity, genderfluid!Gerard, past self-harm, probable future smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 46,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1763495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helena_Hathaway/pseuds/Helena_Hathaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey’s got a brother. Mikey’s also got a sister. Same person.</p><p>Frank’s in love with a boy. Frank’s also in love with a girl. Same person.</p><p>Gee’s a boy. Gee’s also a girl. Same person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friday is Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I don't want you to get the wrong idea about this fic. It's about genderfluid!Gerard. Got that? Genderfludity. I guess you could call this a mini-fic. It's probably not going to be too long. I just thought this would be a good way to take on a really original and less then widely-known subject. No hate intended, I believe in nonbinary genders, and social justice. I didn't know how to tag it, but it's a Frerard, don't worry. Also there's a reason you're going to note a lot of tentative pronouns.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning!

“Friday?” Mikey asks.

“Friday,” Gerard confirms.

“Friday.”

“That’s what I said isn’t it? Friday. I’m not sure why we’re not just saying tomorrow, but whatever floats your boat,” Gerard answers.

Mikey makes a groaning sound so Gerard suspects that he’s annoyed with Gerard’s repetitiveness. 

“You can’t drink booze back here, do you realize that? Your days of legally mooching in the dorms with your scotch is gone.”

“You know they have other alcohol in Scotland that isn’t scotch,” Gerard replies, and Mikey can practically see the eyes rolling in that brain, even from across an ocean. Gerard can’t really change that much in five months, so it’s safe to say that Gerard is still a serial eye-roller.

“Maybe you should try moving to Canada. Their legal drinking age is eighteen to.”

“You just want me to get maple syrup for you,” Gerard asks.

“Some things never change,” he answers, “so when does your flight come in?”

Gerard has to roll over and look at the laptop lying on the shoddily made bed to read the time, and relays it back to Mikey.

“Six o’clock? That’s kind of early.”

“No doofus, it’s kind of late. Post meridian, but for your uneducated ass that means afternoon.”

“I see. That makes more sense. Long flight then?”

“Yeah, I’m switching in Heathrow, and my plane doesn’t leave for about four hours after I land so I have a thrilling morning of airport sitting to look forward to.”

“Yeah, but once you’re here, you get to see me and that’s worth all the flying in the world,” Mikey says.

“Someone’s a little full of himself today,” Gerard says, elongating the words out to make Mikey snort.

“Can you blame me? I’m awesome.”

“For a toothpick.”

“Well at least I have more friends than you,” Mikey splutters.

“Your roommate doesn’t count,” Gerard chides. It’s not untrue though, Gerard repels people quite easily. Unintentionally of course.

“What? Why? What’s wrong with Frank? You’d like Frank, he’s cool. Maybe you’ll get to meet him sometime soon,” Mikey says.

“You know, most people don’t take too kindly to me, as we’ve seen in the past,” Gerard points out.

“Frank’s not like that. He’s lost a few of his screws, and the last time I saw him he was reenacting one of those generic chick flick sobbing wall slides onto the floor over a term paper, but he’s a top notch dude. He gets a little emotional about the metaphorical implications of the X-Men, but who doesn’t?”

“Lovely,” Gerard says shortly, making Mikey laugh again. Gerard is one of the only people who makes Mikey laugh for no reason at all, and one of the reasons why he’s missed the little Way so much is because of that part of him that he shares so sparsely with other people.

“Well whatever, I’ll see you tomorrow Gee, and you had better bring me something fucking special, because I care more about presents then I care about you.”

“Well aren’t you just a ray of sunshine.”

~*~*~*~

Mikey opens the door after hearing a strange thumping sound in his room to see Frank spread eagled on the ground with his bangs in his eyes. He’s hitting the back of his head rhythmically against the wood floor and Mikey just stands there looking at his broken friend with amusement.

He’s like one of those windup toys that breaks after a few weeks and starts progressively becoming more attracted to solid dead ends. Frank’s head just keeps returning to the same spot over and over again like he doesn’t realize he’s even banging it down in the first place. 

Mikey closes the door behind him, but Frank shows no sign that he’s aware of Mikey’s presence or that he cares. It’s probably the latter though because he’s been whining about this for the last twelve hours.

“Are you crying? Are you actually crying over this thing?” Mikey asks, looking down at Frank lying on the floor with a textbook on his chest.

“I hate Shakespeare. I hate him and his stupid fucking tragedies, and I hate his stupid face and his plays, and I just hate him.”

“I’ve never seen someone so passionate about their distaste for the bard.”

“Don’t even get me started on Homer.”

“You, my friend, are falling apart,” Mikey says hopping down on his bed to look at the muddled mess on the floor also known as Frank.

“Can you blame me? I have to translate four fucking chapters of The Iliad and write a paper on fucking Macbeth by Friday.”

“Today’s Thursday,” Mikey says.

“No really, fuckwad?” Frank says sardonically lifting his head off the floor to give Mikey a cold stare.

“I’m sorry for your numbing homework schedule,” Mikey says, then dodges a rolled up sock that Frank throws his way. “Hey I didn’t give you that shit, don’t get mad at me.”

“Would you do me a favor, Mikey?”

“Probably not. What do you want?”

“If the police come here tomorrow and question us about Professor Hoffman’s whereabouts, would you tell them that I was here all night?” Frank inquires.

“No problem, seems easy enough. I do have one question though, how are you planning of disposing of the body, because I am so not up for grave digging tonight? I have a shit-ton to do as well.”

“You know I was thinking more Silence of the Lambs, giant pit of doom sort of deal.”

“Mmk, just try not to track any dirt in,” Mikey says.

“Like you’d even notice, you’re the slob,” Frank whines, and he pulls himself up just enough so that he can lean his back against his bed.

“I prefer to call it ‘organized chaos’,” Mikey says.

“I prefer to call it, ‘clean your fucking side of the room before I take a weed whacker and destroy everything you love’,” Frank answers.

“That’s kind of a long name, you might want to consider abbreviating that,” Mikey answers, in his traditional Mikey voice. It’s so hard to tell when he’s being sarcastic, or whether he’s ever been sarcastic, because his inflection never changes. Frank’s gotten used to it, and he’s actually kind of comforted by the way that Mikey seems so unfazed by everything, but sometimes he just doesn’t know anymore.

“I’m going to die, Mikes. I’m going to die after having been strangled by all these fucking assignments. A man named after a brand of dish soap will be the death of me.”

“Okay, even I know that Ajax was named after the Trojan hero, and not the other way around. Besides the last time I checked that book was written in like 500 BC which is way before the invention of the dishwasher.”

“Can’t a man mope without being corrected by his smartass of a roommate?”

“He can but he shouldn’t be surprised if he’s reprimanded for his historical inaccuracy,” Mikey says.

“I’m the one historically inaccurate? You were off by about 500 years, Mikes. Okay, enough chatting. I’ve gotta, like, get this done,” Frank says, and he pulls the book in front of him and his eyes sweep over the page quickly.

“Don’t mind me,” Mikey says, “It’s not too bad though, Frank.”

“Not helping,” Frank says, holding a hand out to silence Mikey, who just rolls his eyes and falls back on his bed to pick up a textbook of his own.

Frank’s still studying desperately after about an hour of partial silence and only pauses for a nutritional dinner of dried ramen because both of them are too lazy to go down the hall and microwave it. Frank also doesn’t have that much time to waste, because he’s still got about six hours of work to be done, before he can even think about getting some sleep.

It’s Mikey that first breaks the silence, “Oh I forgot to tell you, Gee is coming back tomorrow, so we’re going to be out all night probably. We haven’t seen each other in, like, half a year, so there’s a lot of catching up to do.”

“Gee? Oh right yeah, you’re brother,” Frank says, not paying too much attention.

“Sure,” Mikey says, but Frank’s attention is elsewhere and Mikey’s voice is little more than white noise.

“I’d invite you, but I honestly don’t know how you’d feel about Gee,” Mikey says, “kind of a strange one.”

“Listen Mikey, not now, I have to get this stuff done, I don’t want any distractions, okay? Have fun with your brother. How old is he?”

“Gee’s a junior, I’ve told you this. Went to study abroad for the first part of this year. I go to this school because Gee does, and really likes it,” Mikey says, but he’s not all that angry with Frank for being distracted by his work.

“Okay, that’s nice.”

“Yeah, we’ll probably go out on the town and set fire to some churches, no big deal. Maybe throw a few babies down an elevator shaft,” Mikey says, watching Frank to see if he’s even kind of paying attention.

“Right, have fun,” Frank says. Not even a little bit. Mikey could shoot a porno in here without Frank noticing. He won’t, but he could.

All Frank even knows about the guy is what Mikey’s told him, but it’s always very cryptic so he assumes there’s something really off about him. He’s never met his roommates brother, and the only thing he has to go off of what he looks like is the collection of ten year old year book photos Mikey keeps on his desk. 

Though Frank doesn’t really care is the thing. He'd just assume to never give a second thought about Mikey’s older brother. Mikey doesn’t push it and eventually falls asleep with his body above the covers because he’s too exhausted to crawl under them.

Frank doesn’t let up on himself until well after two in the morning when he finally finishes up a sloppy, but complete translation of Homer, and an even sloppier, and very nearly incomplete, essay on Macbeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to need comments, because I don't know if anyone will be interested in this. It's kind of out there, I guess, so please tell me if you want more.


	2. The Ethics of Human Cloning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank's views on morality whilst pirating.

“Holy fuck is it possible to get that ugly in just five months?” A voice says and Mikey turns his head to the left to see Gee strolling over with an obnoxiously large carry on in his hand.

“I could say the same about you, Gee,” Mikey says.

“Gerard, if you will,” Gerard declares easily.

“So we’re Gerard today?” Mikey asks.

“For right now,” Gerard says, and puts his arm around Mikey. “God it’s been so long since I last saw you! How you doing baby bro?”

“I’m doing fine,” Mikey says, and pushes Gerard away like he’s something grotesque. In all honesty Gerard smells like he’s been on a plane for twelve hours, which is where he has been for the past several hours so it’s not an unexpected scent.

“Oh man, do I smell as bad as I feel like I do?” Gerard asks.

Mikey wrinkles his nose, “it’s not great. I’ll spray some car air freshener on you later.”

“Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing.”

Gerard drags Mikey to the circular conveyor belt that’s started spitting out various pieces of luggage. The deep purple one Gerard had picked out a while ago would be pretty hard to miss. Gerard leans in to grab it by the bright green luggage tag, nearly missing it as it spins around a curve. Mikey likes to joke with him that he bought Prince’s suitcase. Gerard likes to joke that Mikey has a stupid face. The two aren’t mutually exclusive. 

“Still got the strength of a rotting tree branch I see,” Mikey notes, as Gerard flails around with the bag for a moment before setting it down. He very nearly sets it down on his foot, and Mikey lets out a breath when he sees that Gerard’s toes stay intact.

“I can successfully carry five textbooks across an entire campus, thank you very much,” Gerard says.

“Yeah whatever, do you have just the one bag? Or is there more?”

“Oh I had another but I shipped it last week, should be getting here soon,” Gerard says, and he spends a long moment trying to turn the piece of luggage onto the side with the wheels.

“You need help with that?” Mikey asks.

“From you? Mikes, you’d probably snap in two.”

“I drink a lot of milk. My bones are strong,” Mikey says monotonously so that Gerard has to pause for a second to see if he’s joking. The hint of a smile on his face leads Gerard to believe that he is, so he pushes the suitcase over and finally gets it on the correct side. Then he pauses and realizes that he now has to figure out where the handle is.

“You are hopeless, how the hell did you survive on your own for five months?” Mikey says walking over to it and finding the handle within seconds.

“I assaulted the google search button,” Gerard says as an explanation, and Mikey just rolls his eyes.

“As strange as it seems, I’ve actually missed you, Gerard,” Mikey says.

Gerard snorts and nudges Mikey forcefully as they start out on the walk down the long hallway to the front of the airport.

“It’s because I’m great, isn’t it?”

“Who’s full of himself, _today_?” Mikey asks, and then says, “So how was Scotland. Did you see the loch ness monster?”

“Yes, actually. I invited it over for barbecue but it had a prior engagement to play pinochle with the abominable snowman and the Jersey devil.”

“Well that’s a little rude. Shouldn’t he have made arrangements to postpone your meeting?”

“I’d say ‘it’, it didn’t seem too sure so I’m going with it. I guess things turned out all for the better. I don’t think my dorm room was really big enough. And I didn’t have a grill to do any barbecuing anyway,” Gerard says. Mikey’s not exactly surprised that Gerard sticks up for a mythical creatures established gender binary, but he rolls his eyes anyway. Eye rolling runs in the family.

“So how’d they treat you in Scotland?” Mikey asks.

“Uh some people were nice. Everyone was pretty much judgmental as hell, but they didn’t say it to my face which was pleasant,” Gerard says.

“But any real friends?”

“I’m too afraid to get close to anyone these days, Mikes,” Gerard says, and his tone doesn’t change even though his words are grim. “It’s just not in the cards right now. Society doesn’t respect me, and they surely don’t accept me, so I’m just going to avoid social interaction at all costs.”

“You know that not all people are like that, Gerard. I know plenty of people who’d accept you,” Mikey says, and he pushes the door open for Gerard. The night is coming in, making the sky a shade of blue that has chilled the air considerably.

“I’m not saying it’s a rational fear,” Gerard sighs, rolling the suitcase over the bumps of the doorway. It makes a rumbling noise when they set off on the sidewalk, but they both like it for some odd reason. It’s consistent and comforting.

“It makes me kind of upset that you don’t at least try meeting people. This is the 21st century, Gerard.”

“I’m aware of what century it is, I just don’t want to go through the shit I did in high school. Not again. Not ever again,” Gerard answers.

“It’s your life,” Mikey sighs, and they don’t talk until they reach the car. 

Gerard looks at the old beater and he can’t believe the piece of shit still runs. It’s technically Gerard’s car, but he left it with Mikey while he was gone. Honestly he’d expected the thing to breakdown.

“Wow, it’s still in one piece,” Gerard says looking at it fondly.

“Hey, I am responsible you know!”

Gerard shrugs, “I’m not saying you aren’t, but I thought this thing would have died by now. It’s still kicking though.”

“It’s like the goldfish I had in third grade. It just refuses to fucking die already,” Mikey says, making Gerard snort.

“Aw man, I have missed Jersey. You know it smells like shit here. I love it,” Gerard says.

“Yeah, it does have that sort of lingering odor doesn’t it?” Mikey concedes. “Do you want to drive?”

“You know I do, but I’ve been in Scotland for too long, I should probably reacquaint myself with the right side of the road thing before I try to drive anywhere.”

“You mean you don’t want to drive head on into another car? Gerard, I am baffled by your decision,” Mikey says, not changing his tone.

“Yeah, sorry to disappoint. Maybe another day.”

“Oh, well you’ve thoroughly lost my interest,” Mikey says pulling open the driver’s side door. Gerard gets in on the other side after ungracefully plopping the bag into the backseat. He keeps the other bag, his backpack with him, because he’s decidedly against crushing his computer.

“So what do we have planned for tonight? Unpacking my luggage and then sleeping, or sleeping and then unpacking my luggage?” Gerard asks.

“I’m not helping you,” Mikey says contemptuously.

“You are if you ever want to use my car again.”

Mikey sighs, “fine, but I told my roommate we were going to arson a few churches so we have to get that done first.”

“Sounds good to me,” Gerard answers.

~*~*~*~

“I am going to get this essay done, I’m going to do it,” Frank says, staring at the blank word document in desperation. For some reason there are no words on the page, and Frank’s concluded that it’s not even his fault. Just because he hasn’t typed anything doesn’t mean it’s his fault... yeah, it’s sort of his fault. He kind of has to type for anything to appear on the screen.

Frank just watches the cursor blink warily, and then watches the clock on the bottom of the screen change digits. There’s a small twitch of the mouse whenever he takes in a deep breath because the laptop is perched on his thighs. His legs are starting to overheat, and he’s quite certain that the bottom of the computer is the most heat he’s familiar with at the moment, because he hasn’t seen the sun in a few days.

“Who are you talking to Frank?” he asks himself, “I’m losing my mind.”

The essay isn’t actually due for another four days, but he did tell himself that he wasn’t going to push it off until the last minute this time. Who is he kidding though? He’s a filthy procrastinator, and there’s nothing he can do about that.

Frank closes the document and mopes to himself when he does so, because now he’s actually made it official. He opens up a new document, stares at it for another ten minutes, and then closes it again.

The third time he opens it though, he actually types some words. Seven words to be exact.

_‘Censorship in Modern Media by Frank Iero.’_

“That seems like enough work for tonight,” Frank says, saving the document and flipping off his future-self. Why he’s such a masochistic bastard, he’ll never know. Right now is not the time for essay writing though. Right now is time for _totally legally acquiring_ the next episode of Orphan Black, and then later he might even do some hardcore Tetris playing. Because Frank is a responsible adult who has a deep understanding of time management.

It’s right in the middle of Frank yelling at his laptop screen when Mikey enters the room, and just gives Frank that judgmental onceover.

“You were yelling at Alison again weren’t you?” Mikey says shaking his head.

“She’s a bad person Mikey!” Frank says trying to defend himself. 

“If I remember correctly you were plotting on throwing your Greek professor into a pit just yesterday, so you have absolutely no grounds to call her a horrible person,” Mikey points out.

“Excuse me? I have never tied my husband to a chair and threatened him with a hot glue gun.”

“Oh Frank, we both know you’re kinky as hell,” Mikey throws himself on his bed and makes a huffing exhausted sound.

“So how was your brother?” Frank asks, grabbing his ear buds from the side of his desk.

“Gerard was Gerard. Psychotic and unstable as always,” Mikey answers, a little surprised that Frank had even paid him any attention yesterday.

“Well that’s good. Now if you don’t mind me, I’ve got some perverse fangirling to get back to. Don’t mind me,” Frank says, slipping one ear bud in and then the other. 

Mikey does that annoying thing of his where he pretends to talk while Frank’s ear buds are in, when in reality he’s actually just mouthing nonsensical things into the open air. Frank ignores him, because he has some acerbic clones to attend to at the moment.

About twenty minutes later, Frank speaks out into the quiet room.

“I was just thing about how immoral human cloning would be. Like do you realize what ethics they’d actually be violating if they pulled something like that off? It would be so far past messed up, and look where it got them in the show? A bunch of pissed of clones who are out for blood. It’s like they’re experiment turned on them or something, and now it’s all out of whack,” Frank says.

“You are thinking way to philosophically about that damn show, Frank.”

“Do you think God stays in heaven because he too, lives in fear of what he's created?”

“Now I know you did not just quote Spy Kids 2 on me,” Mikey says and there’s actually exasperation in his voice.

“You should be ashamed that you understood that reference.”

“Speaking of ethics though,” Mikey says, “do you think it’s ethical to look down on someone for something about them that they can’t change? That they didn’t even choose in the first place?”

“Of course that’s not ethical. You should never look down on someone for something they can’t do anything about. What kind of a question is that?” Frank asks.

“Nothing, it’s just... something Gerard got me to thinking about. I feel like people are so quick to look down upon others when they don’t know shit about what it’s like in another person’s brain. No one chooses the person they become or whatever, so why would you segregate them out for who they are?”

“You’re talking deep shit, Mikes. I was just commenting on the principles of nonexistent human experimentation.”

“I know, I just... I can’t wrap my head around the hate that comes with belief. I get that people believe in certain things, but I thinks it’s so wrong to base your way of life off of something that is nothing other than faith.”

“Preaching to the choir, Mikes. Or, um, maybe not the best idiom, but you get what I mean.”

It’s hard knowing everyone hates you. It’s worse knowing everyone hates someone you love. 

Mikey frowns, wondering what Frank would think if he met Gerard. A lot of people disagree with Gerard’s entire existence, and obviously Mikey wants to believe the best in his friend, but what does he really know? Mikey can’t help but think about Shan Yu at the moment; what would Frank really tell him if he were to hold him over the edge of a volcano?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry there's some actual plot coming up soon.


	3. Silence in the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank sorta kinda, but not really, meets Gee.

“What did I fucking tell you about procrastinating?” Mikey asks. It's Monday and Frank totally left that Censorship essay hanging without a second thought over the weekend. Now it's due tomorrow, and he has seven words.

“Something along the lines of ‘don’t fucking do it, you fucking dipshit’,” Frank replies.

“Mhm, yes that sounds like me,” Mikey says smiling at the words.

“Would it kill you to turn the music down though? You’re going to get us in trouble, and honestly if we have one more person knock on that door to tell us we need to turn the music down, I’m going to smash your computer with a baseball bat,” Frank yells, trying to cover both of his ears and type at the same time, which is proving to be impossible.

“I’m sorry I’ve gone partially deaf in one ear, this is the only volume I can play it at and still hear,” Mikey answers.

“You lie!” Frank calls.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. I’m not turning the music down,” Mikey says, “and you’re not turning it down either because you don’t know the password to my computer.”

“Oh don’t I? Do the words ‘BillyC0rgan’ ring a bell to you? The O is a zero.”

“Fuck!” Mikey shouts and grabs his computer immediately, “did you-”

“Find your porn stash? Yes, I did.”

“Damn it,” Mikey says, and Frank looks over to see him typing away like there’s no tomorrow. The music hasn’t been turned down yet though, and while it is good music, it’s making it hard for Frank to concentrate.

“I’m not turning the volume down. Try guessing that password, shithead,” Mikey says.

“You and your terms of endearment are what keep me breathing,” Frank says with scorn. 

“Yeah whatever, dumbass,” Mikey says.

“I’m going to the library,” Frank announces, giving up on being able to do work in these conditions, “and when I come back I’m going to throw something slimy at your head.”

When he thinks about it, it’s not exactly unfair of Mikey to be playing music this loud. After all Frank stuck Mikey’s toothbrush in a glass of water and then set it in the shared freezer for a few hours just last week. The resulting consequence was that Mikey had a water flavored popsicle with a minty flavored stick.

“Tata!” Mikey calls, and Frank takes back his word and instead throws something at Mikey’s head right then and there. It’s not slimy though.

“That’s you’re damn shirt anyway,” Frank says, closing the door swiftly behind him so there’s no time for Mikey to reciprocate. 

Frank exits his building and he’s hit by the brisk air. It’s a little too cold to have left without a jacket, but he’s not going to be outside for long, so he decides not to go back and grab it. It’s not a long walk to the library, and he gets their quicker then he usually would, because he’s anxious to arrive somewhere with heat.

Frank walks into the building and lets out an instinctive shiver, but the warmth floods through him pleasantly, and he steps forward to find himself a quiet nook to start working in.

He finds a table near the corner of the library with all the books about psychology that few people ever read. It’s the most secluded part of the room, and that’s why Frank goes here, because it’s quieter.

The library is pretty busy at this time of the day, but there’s no one in this particular section besides Frank, so he has the table to himself. There’s the distinct muttering of people on the other side of some shelves, and the cavernous room makes their voices carry, but it’s not that bad. He wishes it were quieter, but at least it’s better than having The Smiths blare at him in deafening clarity.

He groans and then opens the document, then a window with google. He cracks his knuckles and then starts to actually type, which is not what he wants to be doing right now.

After about ten minutes he notices that he’s been biting his lip so hard that he can feel it beginning to scab, so he lets it go. The urge to bite it is pretty strong though, and he rubs his tongue along the sensitive skin that’s been weathered away. Frank catches his lip ring in his teeth and takes to chewing on that for now instead.

“Mind if I sit here?” A voice says, and Frank doesn’t look up he just waves his hand noncommittally. “Is that a yes or a no?”

Frank shrugs, not entirely on the right planet to give an answer. He honestly doesn’t even register that someone’s talking to him until the table he’s sitting at rattles ever-so-slightly and he barely realizes that the person has sat down. 

He can’t afford to waste the time he’d need to even look up and see who it is. Sounded like a girls voice, but it could’ve been a boys. He doesn’t care enough to look.

He’s so wrapped up in his work that it almost comes as a jolt when he finishes. It doesn’t seem real. He’d thought that he’d be writing this essay for years, but now it’s done. He can’t find it in himself to believe that he actually just typed that whole thing, and now it’s done.

He looks up and rejoins the universe with a sudden hit to the face. It’s not unpleasant, he’d just forgotten where he was for a little while. Forgot who he was as well, but it’s all so painfully clear now that his work is done. It’s a remarkable feeling.

Frank checks his watch to see that it’s almost nine, but he got his work done in record time today. He still has like three hours before he’s usually go to bed, and it’s great.

He glances around the room to see that it’s still fairly busy, but there’s a hush over the room so it’s quieter then when he got here. The person who’d sat at the table is on the opposite side, and the other end of the table, but there’s only a few seats so he can make out their image pretty well. The person has their face buried in a book that actually comes from the psychology section which Frank find a little strange. He wasn’t aware that anyone read those, but he assumes that there’s always the fact that there are psychology majors at this school. That’s the purpose of putting the books there. He’d have thought that you would take it back to your dorm and study it there though.

He looks closer at the person to see that it’s a girl. Her black hair is short for a girls, but long enough to hang around the middle of her neck. She’s either wearing fake eyelashes or she could break the record for length. She’s pale, and there’s a bright blue scarf wrapped around her neck, but it’s the fashion kind and not the kind you wear when it’s cold out.

Frank likes the way her nails have been filled in with black permanent marker, even though they’re a little big and masculine. 

He doesn’t even notice he’s staring at her until she lifts her head to turn the page and catches a glimpse of him looking. It’s just out of the corner of her eye, but he can tell she’s looking. He can’t really see the lower half of her face quite well, because it’s sheltered in the shadow of the book, but her eyes are inquisitive and the hazel color of her irises is a bright contrast to the whites holding them.

Frank looks away immediately and trains his eyes back on the computer screen to give it a second read through, but he gets distracted a few times, because he can feel the girl looking at him. Frank’s eyes roll comedically across the skin to a point where he isn’t even processing the words he’s just reading them. His brain knows that the words are there and it’s scanning them for him, but not a single one of them is actually being understood. It’s like there’s a firewall in the way of the words, and all he has is the prickly feeling of being stared at.

He looks up to see her plainly eyeing him, and she seems pretty unperturbed by the fact that Frank’s caught her looking. Her lips are a shade too red, and the lipstick looks kind of cheap, but it’s not bad looking. He actually think she’s kind of pretty.

It’s starting to creep him out that they’re holding each other’s eye contact, so Frank looks away, but she doesn’t.

It’s becoming uncomfortable to the point where Frank closes his computer, and then stuffs it in his bag. He gets up and walks away from the table a moment later, but he sees the girl looking at him the whole time until he walks around. She doesn’t twist her head to watch him leave, because it’s apparently too much effort, but she watched him until he was out of her immediate sightline. 

Gee doesn’t really care about him, she just likes making people uncomfortable. It’s not something that she ever really aims to do, but it’s fun. She watches the frantic looking boy get up and leave, and her smile twitches when she sees just how short he is. It was hard to tell when he was sitting down, but he can’t be much more than 5’6.

She actually thought he was kind of good looking for a guy who clearly hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a few weeks. He was probably a freshman, he looked about that age, but she also wouldn’t have been surprised if he was younger than that. Maybe a high school kid making use of a bigger library. He was pretty young looking. 

Inevitably, Gee does forget about him though, and smiles to herself that now she has a table all to herself. She raises her legs and puts them on the chair corresponding to the one opposite hers. It might have been a subconscious purpose all along to get him to leave, but it might also have just been a happy result. Whatever the intent, he’s gone now, so there’s no one to worry about at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there, hold on, more plot to come.


	4. Vitamin C

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apples aren't just for Shinigami.

Gerard tries pressing the pillow into his head, but it’s no use. When Mikey gets talking, he _really_ gets talking. The odd thing about it is that Mikey never talks that much, but right now he’s very effervescent.

“-but I did tell him. He’s so stubborn though. He never does anything anyone asks, and he never does the thing most beneficial to his agenda, if it requires listening to someone else. I told him that if he always puts things off like that then he will never have any free time, but does he listen to me? No. Course not, he just freezes my toothbrush and expects me not to torment him, but it’s not my fault he never does his homework on time! No it’s his fault. He’ll blame anyone but himself though. He’d probably find some way to blame me if he broke his foot or something.

“I mean that’s not to say I don’t like him, though I think it’s pretty unreasonable how little observations skill he has. He doesn’t recognize faces unless he’s seen you like forty times. He forgot my name after I’d known him for a week, you know. I don’t know what he stores up there in that head, it’s like he has absolutely no file storage for anything important, but he can tell you a whole bunch of useless trivia facts about Nintendo.”

“Sometimes it’s a mercy that you even talk at all, but then other times I feel like my brain is imploding,” Gerard mumbles.

“Oh shit sorry, I’m boring you, aren’t I? I mean it’s not like I can exactly complain about Frank to Frank. He set my alarm to 5 in the morning yesterday when I didn’t have a class until eleven. I don’t know why, but he looked so proud of himself. I feel like we’re at war, but neither of us want to do something so bad that it’ll make the other hate him. He froze my toothbrush though. Who freezes a fucking toothbrush?”

“I’ll freeze your toothbrush if I ever have access to it,” Gerard says.

Mikey frowns, “Well it’s good to know that I have you on my side.”

“Mmph, well I’m here to help,” Gerard answers, “Can we get lunch now? It’s nearly noon, and I’m starving.”

“Oh fine, if food is more important than your own brother then we can get food.”

“I have absolute faith that you’re going to keep talking when we get something to eat. You never seem to shut up when you get passionate like this. And when I say passionate I mean when you’re complaining,” Gerard says, pulling himself up from the bed.

“Fuck you,” Mikey says, and shakes his head. Gerard’s room already looks habituated, and if it’s possible it’s messier then Mikey’s room. Now granted, Mikey has an obsessive roommate who forces him to pick up every now and again, but Gerard is a pretty impressive mess maker.

Gerard’s got a single room due to the fact that there was no way possible to pair Gerard with someone of the opposite gender. Would’ve been kind of difficult. If Mikey’s a mess, then Gerard is mayhem. 

Gerard pulls himself up and makes a point of walking out the door and letting it close in Mikey’s face.

“I do not complain that much,” Mikey says.

“What do you call it then?”

“Shut up,” Mikey says, when he can’t come up with an answer. Gerard won that one.

“So how has your first week back in America been?”

“I find it much easier to understand people. Though I got a little freaked out when someone said the word ‘fanny’ the other day,” Gerard says.

“I’m not going to ask,” Mikey says.

They step out of the building and into the cold weather. The sky is a shade of white that signals that there might be snow later. It’s colorless aside from the hint of some kind of sunlight behind the scattering of cottony clouds. It’s the kind of sky that is insanely bright, even though there’s no physical sign of the sun. 

Gerard squints, and puts his head down, as per his usual stance. He never really needs an excuse to try to make as little eye contact with other people as he can.

~*~*~*~

Honestly he just wanted to finish eating so that he could get back to his room and finish the reading for his class on Monday. Frank is trying to learn from his mistakes. He doesn’t want to put things off anymore, and if he gets the reading done tonight, then he’ll have Sunday off, which is something he hasn’t had in months.

Frank grabs a quick lunch of an apple and a bag of chips. The apple is meant to counteract the chips, but he’s probably going to get something unhealthy later so it’s really doing nothing at all. 

“Frank!” Someone says and Frank ducks his head down against the pillar as far as he can get. There is a reason he’s not in the cafeteria. It’s not an invitation to sit with him, it’s an invitation to get the fuck away from him.

“I’m not here, pretend you didn’t see me,” Frank says, trying to hide himself behind a textbook.

“Oh my, I wonder where Frank went, he was here just a moment ago and then he disappeared and was replaced by this textbook about Ancient Greek,” Mikey says, and then the textbook is lifted from his hands by a man who is already abnormally tall compared to Frank, but he’s even larger considering Frank is sitting down.

“Gimme,” Frank says snatching for the textbook, but it’s a week effort since his hands only come up to Mikey’s waste while he’s sitting.

“Why?”

Frank groans, “Just, ugh. Mikey, gimme! Gimme!”

“A man after midnight?”

“If you’re handing them out then sure, but I want my textbook. Mikey!”

“You’re so very persuasive, now all I want to do is give this textbook back to you,” Mikey says in a voice that is even more monotone than usual. “You, my friend, could be a hypnotist.”

“Yeah, just not a very good one,” Frank says trying to grab the textbook again, but he’s remaining very stubborn and hasn’t moved from his seat on the floor.

“How do you intend to ever get through life if you’re not even willing to stand up for a book?” Mikey asks.

“Standing is hard,” Frank complains, “and need I remind you who is in the best position to pull whose pants down at the moment. Me, if you hadn’t figured it out.”

He grabs Mikey’s ankle and tries to either pull Mikey to the ground or get him to relinquish the textbook.

“You were right, he is stubborn,” a voice says, that Frank ignores, and looks up at Mikey.

“Textbook Mikey, or I will show everyone in this room what color your underwear is,” Frank warns.

“You play dirty,” Mikey laughs, plopping the textbook back near Frank.

“Now go away! I was just in the middle of reading about Zeus shacking up with half of Greece. I’ve never known anyone with such little control of his own dick.”

“You haven’t truly met Mikey then,” the guy behind him says, and Mikey punches him in the arm. Frank peers over at him and assumes he’s the brother then. He’s good looking, not very noticeable with his head down like that though.

Gerard looks at Frank for the first time, and he’s a little surprised to realize it’s the guy who he scared off the other day. He doubts this Frank guy got a good enough look at him to connect that person to him.

“Oh, right sorry. Frank this is Gee. Or Gerard. Whatever,” Mikey says.

“I would love to chat, but I actually wouldn’t and that was a complete lie. Mikey you’re the one who told me to stop procrastinating! I am trying to do exactly just that. Wait no. I’m trying to not do that! You know what I mean.”

“You’re friendly today,” Mikey sneers.

“You’re a bitch today,” Frank says, not looking up, as he’s now trying to find the page in his book where he left off. Something about Zeus impregnating some chick, which is what most of the pages are about.

“He’s not wrong,” Gerard says, and Frank decides that he likes Mikey’s brother.

“Alright fine, but I’m stealing your apple,” Mikey says grabbing the little fruit sitting on Frank’s side, and then walks away down towards the cafeteria. 

“What? Hey!” Frank shouts looking at the spot where his apple was a moment ago. He turns and looks around the pillar to see Mikey grinning at him holding the apple up to show him.

“I paid for that, asshole!” Frank calls after him, “you know I’m broke. Give that back!”

“Mine now!” Mikey shouts, and Frank growls but then stands up, collects his things and runs after Mikey. He will get his apple back, and if he doesn’t, he’s going to kill Mikey. Or make Mikey buy him a new one, but that seems like too much work, it would be more fun to just kill him. 

“I knew that would get you up. You and your fruit,” Mikey says, apparently hearing Frank without even having to turn around to look at him running down the hall.

“Mikey,” Frank says, warningly stepping into the same stride with him, “Apple. Now.”

“Say please,” Mikey says patronizingly.

“For what. That thing cost me a buck, it’s mine, so hand it over,” Frank replies.

“Yeah but there’s never an improper time to use your manners.”

“Give me the fruit right now motherfucker or I will lock you in a secluded room without windows, and I will play Thong Song on repeat until your ears bleed, and you’re begging for mercy.”

“That was uncalled for,” Mikey says, “I never realized how much of a sadist you were.”

“I’m not messing around shitdick, I need my vitamin C.”

“I’ve gotta say, I never thought I’d hear the terms ‘shitdick’ and ‘vitamin C’ used in the same sentence,” Gerard says.

“My apple Mikeyway or you are looking at a future of Thong Song on repeat. You really want to risk that?”

“You’re a horrible person,” Mikey says tossing the apple up for Frank to catch. 

“Thank you much. Fuck you, Mikes,” Frank says, “and see you later.”

“Yep see ya, Frank,” Mikey yells at him, after Frank runs back down the hall.

“Your roommate?” Gerard asks.

“No, he’s my dermatologist.”

“I like him,” Gerard says with a nod, “plus he puts up with you which is a hell of a feat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep telling you that plot is coming and then I don't give you any plot, but this had a little plot! We're getting there, I'm trying to make it humorous, which is harder then I thought it'd be.


	5. Bonding Through High Jinx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more official first meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took several hours to make cover art. Gerard makes a hot chick:  
> [](http://s1291.photobucket.com/user/Sexy_Bread_Tin/media/Cover_zps2789691b.png.html)

Frank dangles his feet off the foot of the bed, happily. The only sound in the room is the steady beat of Mikey drumming his pencil on the top of a textbook. There’s also the sound of Frank’s and Mikey’s breath, but it’s not as loud as the tap tap tap of Mikey’s eraser.

“I’ve never had so much free time, Mikes! This is so exciting,” Frank says.

“Do you have to rub it in?”

“Yes, of course I do! This is the first time I’ve had all my work done, like ever, and even _you_ have work to do. You, Mr. Hard worker, isn’t even done with his work!”

“You’re a jerk,” Mikey says.

“That’s not very creative,” Frank replies disparagingly.

“Fine, you’re a wanker.”

“Oh feeling a little British today, are we? In that case, than you, my dear Michael, are a numpty.”

“Frank, I have work to do,” Mikey says severely, turning to look at Frank, who’s still lounging on his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling. It’s a cheaply painted popcorn ceiling with ugly glaring overhead lights that give the room a surgical like lighting. They usually have them off, like they are right now so it’s dark aside from Mikey’s desk lamp, and some fairy lights on Frank’s side of the room.

“And what did you do to me when I had work to do?” Frank says, pulling his head up enough to raise his eyebrow at Mikey.

“You fucking wouldn’t,” Mikey says, giving him a venomous stare.

“Thong Song?” Frank says, and Mikey shakes his head vigorously.

“Dear god, anything but that.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have said that,” Frank replies with a shit-eating grin.

“You were Satan in another life weren’t you?” Mikey asks, as Frank fiddles with his computer for a moment.

“No, I’m worse than Satan,” Frank answers, scrolling through a long list of songs that will hopefully annoy Mikey as much as possible. “Satan used to avoid _me_ at parties.”

“Fucking hell, why do you even have Justin Bieber on your computer?” Mikey asks a minute later.

“For times like this, my friend,” Frank answers.

“You know its torture to you just as much as it is to me, right?” Mikey says, “You have to listen to this shit as well.”

“No, because you complain more. The reason why you’re so fun to pick on is because you react, and it’s hysterical,” Frank says, even though he really is sick of the song himself.

“I will pay you five bucks to turn it off and leave the room,” Mikey says.

“Dude, you serious?” Frank asks.

“If you leave then yes,” Mikey says. Now ordinarily Frank wouldn’t consider it, but he really is fucking broke so he does give it a thought.

“Alright deal, but I want my money now,” Frank says, and Mikey groans before throwing a crumpled up bill at him.

“This is the closest I am ever going to get to rich,” Frank sighs, but picks it up, and grabs his computer bag, after turning the music off.

“Good riddance,” Mikey calls at him as he leaves the room.

“Yeah, I love you too,” Frank hollers. 

He doesn’t really have any friends who he can go hang out with, because he’s done a pretty good job of completely excluding himself from socializing, through no fault of his own of course. He’s just always working though, and when he’s not working, he’s procrastinating working. He’s the kind of guy who would rather eat seventeen yogurts then actually do his work.

Frank just shrugs and decides to head over to the library again. Maybe he’ll catch up on some stuff that he hasn’t had enough time for. It’s pretty cool for him though, he has the whole rest of the day off, and tomorrow. That’s a rare thing for him.

~*~*~*~

Gerard sees the Frank guy the minute he stepped into the library. The thing is that he’s not the quietest fellow, even when he’s not making any noise intentionally. Maybe it’s his shoes. Maybe he just has really noisy shoes.

Gerard is sitting at the same table as the other day. Frank probably wouldn’t know that. Especially if he’s as bad at remembering faces as Mikey said he was. It’s not like Gerard particularly cares about Frank one way or another, he’s just aware of his existence. In the same way that Gerard doesn’t really give a shit about Cameron Diaz, but he is at least aware that she is a person that exists.

Frank saunters over to the same seat he sat at the other day, and Gerard puts his head down. He doesn’t really want to talk to anyone, and Frank seems like the kind of person who is kind of talkative. 

“Would you mind if I sat here?” Frank’s voice asks, and Gerard waves his hand in a nonchalant manor, which Frank takes as a yes.

Gerard peaks around his book to see that Frank is putting ear buds in, and doesn’t seem to be all that interested in Gerard, so he relaxes a bit, and lets himself forget about the guy for the next few minutes until, “you’re Mikey’s brother.”

“Kind of,” Gerard answers with a sigh. It wasn’t really a question, but he answered it as if it was one.

“I’m his roommate,” Frank says, and Gerard looks to see that he only has the one ear bud in, and he’s looking at Gerard openly. He only recognized Gerard because he’s wearing the same shirt as before. He really is god-awful with names and faces though.

“I know, I remember. You care a lot about apples,” Gerard says.

“Well no, I have no money. I care about losing the things I paid for,” Frank says, “except now I have five bucks. Your brother doesn’t like it when I play shitty pop music at full volume.”

“Not many people over the age of twelve do,” Gerard points out.

Frank shrugs, “but I got five bucks out of it, so I’m not one to complain.”

“Sounds like a good deal on your part,” Gerard says, forgetting that he’d wanted to avoid conversation.

“Mhm, I think so. Do you have a roommate?” Frank inquires.

“Um, no. I couldn’t have one because of... reasons.”

“Oh because you were, like, gone for half the year?” Frank asks.

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons,” Gerard answers.

“Lucky. I mean don’t get me wrong, Mikey is nice, but he does really like to piss people off. He once replaced every face on all my posters with pictures of Susan Boyle.”

Gerard snorts, and then covers his mouth, “I heard you froze his toothbrush.”

“Oh yes, but it’s been an ongoing thing with him and I. I once found a life-size cardboard cutout of Jar Jar Binks in my bed,” Frank says.

“And what did you do to deserve that?” Gerard asks.

“Booby trapped his closet to rain ping pong balls,” Frank says with a shrug, and Gerard grins. He likes Frank’s creativity.

“So who’s worse then?” Gerard asks.

“I don’t know. It depends on what you mean. Sometimes we’re both awful, but I never do the really mean stuff. No one likes that. Meanest we ever are is days like today where I keep him from studying.”

“Could be worse, true. I glued his shampoo bottle closed a lot when we were younger,” Gerard answers.

Frank’s eyes light up, “oh that’s good. I’m going to write that one down.”

“Have at it,” Gerard answers. He doesn’t seem as emotional as Mikey had painted him to be. Though he hasn’t asked him about the X-men, so it’s entirely possible that he’s just in a good mood. 

Most of what Frank’s been told about Mikey’s brother has been dusted into obscurity, and due to Mikey’s indecisive nature, Frank had brushed it off, but Gerard’s nice. The way he holds himself makes Frank guess he’s probably pretty awkward. He tends to look down a lot, and brush hair _into_ his face like he’s nervous that people are looking at him. He also has kind of a girly voice, that’s especially prevalent when he laughs.

Gerard likes to consider himself a bad conversationalist. He generally can’t even talk to people without being so self-conscious that he makes an excuse to leave, but Frank is very easy to talk to. He really is as passionate about the X-men as Mikey said.

Frank likes to consider himself a _good_ conversationalist. Usually what this means is that he can hold a conversation with just about anyone for at least a few minutes. In Gerard’s case it ends up being about two hours. The time just gets lost, until he realizes it’s nearly ten, but even then, they just keep talking.

Gerard’s never been comfortable having long conversations with people, and maybe he’ll dissect this one later tonight to figure out why he’s so affable right now, but for now he’s just going to go with it. Sometimes there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just found out that Panic! At the Disco are going to be in Minnesota, but then I realized that I am not made out of money ($45, seriously?). But You Me At Six is also going to be here several months from now, and seeing as they are not nearly as popular as they should be, I think I can dish out $15. Not going to lie, I do love loving semi-unpopular bands.
> 
> Fuck, Bastille is going to be in Minnesota soon too. I need to win a lottery or something.


	6. Not Your Truth To Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some insight into Gee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This only has five chapters (well it's six now) and already a bunch of Kudos, wow. Is it the humor? Story? It's just that this is already doing better with so little, then on some of my other works that have more content. No complaints here.

“I met your brother. Well I mean, I met him yesterday morning as well, but I actually talked to him in the library,” Frank says.

“What? You talked to Gerard? Or...” Mikey asks.

“Yeah, he’s cool. Better than you anyway,” Frank says, and then dodges the wad of paper thrown at his head.

“What did you, uh, never mind,” Mikey says wondering why on earth Gerard was willing to talk to Frank. Honestly Gee’s been pretty much a hermit for the past three years and Mikey’s never understood what prevented Gerard from talking to people. What makes Frank different? Frank tends to talk to you whether you’re paying attention or not though so it’s entirely possible that Gerard said four words to Frank, and he’d still classify it as a conversation.

“What were you gonna say?” Frank asks. Mikey looks up at Frank and realizes he’s probably got the most bewildered expression right now, so he fixes it back to his famous poker face.

“Nothing. Gerard just doesn’t usually chat with people that’s all,” Mikey says, “most of his friends are on the internet.”

“Really? He was pretty loquacious when I talked to him,” Frank replies, flipping through the pages of his magazine without absorbing many of the words, if any at all.

“Who the fuck says loquacious?”

“I do, you uneducated swine,” Frank replies, “buy yourself a thesaurus one of these days.”

“Only if there’s pictures,” Mikey replies, falling back on his bed to stare at the ceiling tiredly. He may have gotten enough sleep, but he wore himself out trying to get his work done. At least Frank can’t make fun of him for procrastinating though, because he too has the rest of the day free.

“I’ll make sure there’s pictures for you,” Frank replies.

“I didn’t mean that I wanted you to draw a dick on every page.”

“You insult my artistic talent. I can draw a variety of different things.”

“Yeah. You can draw oranges, clocks, tires, hockey pucks and voltorb,” he responds.

Frank frowns, “Those are all just circles.”

“My point exactly.”

“You’re an asshole,” Frank announces.

“I’m not going to deny that,” he answers jauntily, even though he’s completely aware that Frank is grabbing the wad of paper from the ground that was thrown only a minute before. Mikey’s close to catching it, but sadly it falls through his fingers and onto the bedspread.

“Do you want lunch? I’m hungry. I promise not to threaten you with Sisqó this time,” Frank says.

“Yeah we can get lunch, I suppose,” Mikey says, “It’s the first time all semester that you’ve done your work early. I’m proud of you man.”

“Proud enough to buy me a muffin?” Frank asks.

“Not really. Only if you get a Nobel Peace Prize. Only then will I buy you a muffin,” Mikey states.

“Really? I won the fucking Nobel Peace Prize and all you do for me is buy me a fucking pastry? It’s one of the most prestigious academic awards in the whole world, and all I get is a baked good?”

“Well I’m just generous that way. It’s a million dollar award, you can buy your own damn muffin with it.”

“I hate you,” Frank scolds.

“No you don’t, I’m fantastic,” Mikey smiles.

“Whatever gets you through the day, bro,” Frank rolls his eyes.

“So lunch?” Mikey changes the topic, “I’ll invite Gerard too then. Gee’s dorm is on the way.”

“We can invite him, sure,” Frank says. By the way that Frank uses his pronouns, Mikey is more than sure that Gerard didn’t tell him. It’s not like he’d have expected Gerard to, he just tells himself to remember that. Gerard has the final say on who knows what, so Mikey promises to keep it to himself unless and until Gerard tells him otherwise.

Mikey’s gotten used to choosing his words carefully in reference to his older sibling. May it be ‘they’ or just using Gerard’s name, it doesn’t matter, Mikey just tries to refrain from actual pronouns until he’s confirmed what Gerard’s identifying as at the moment.

“Well I should call first because sometimes Gee’s... not really a person who wants to hang out,” Mikey says.

“Can’t you just stop by his room? You said it’s on the way to the caf.”

“Um, well I don’t like dropping by unannounced. It’s better for me to call,” Mikey says.

“Okay, whatever man,” Frank says, and waits for Mikey.

“I’m going to call in the hall, if that’s alright,” Mikey says, standing up, and Frank eyes him judgmentally.

“Because asking if he wants lunch is a conversation that’s not to be overheard?” Frank says with amusement.

“Some people like their privacy more than others, Frank. Gee is one of those people,” Mikey says, standing up and walking towards the door before Frank can ask him any more questions.

He steps into the hall which is empty for the most part and then calls Gerard up quickly.

“Hey Mikes,” the voice on the other end says.

“Hey, so me and Frank are going to get lunch, and I was wondering if you wanted to come along. He mentioned that you two talked yesterday,” Mikey says.

“It’s ‘Frank and I’ by the way, and I think I’ll sit this one out.”

“I’m not asking you to correct my fucking grammar, I just wanted to know if you wanted to come,” Mikey answers.

“And I just gave you your answer.”

Mikey doesn’t have to ask Gee to know what’s going on in the gender report today. Gerard likes getting lunch with Mikey and hanging out. Gee doesn’t because she thinks people will point at her and judge.

“Are you sure? It sounded like you and Frank hit it off.”

“Mikes I don’t really feel up to it,” Gee replies.

“Is it because you don’t feel like-”

“A guy? Yes. Frank’s never seen me as a girl, or at least he doesn’t recognize me, and it’s best that he never does. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“So you’re just going to completely avoid everyone when you’re not a dude?” Mikey asks, “That’s a little ridiculous.”

“Yes I know, but your friend Frank, he was really nice, and I’d really hate for him to think I’m a freak,” she replies.

“But you’re not a freak! You’re not confused, and you’re not indecisive, Gee. You’re just you. If Frank doesn’t see that, but I know him pretty well so I bet he probably would understand, then _he’s_ the freak.”

“You don’t get it. I’m not comfortable being myself just yet. When the time comes maybe it’ll be easier, but for now, I’d really rather avoid having panic attacks because of this. I know who I am, and I’m not ashamed, at least not as much as I used to be, I’m just not prepared to be the weirdo on campus again.”

Mikey groans, “But Gee-”

“You know it’s my choice, Mikey. I get to decide what people know about me, not you. My infamy has died down here because I was gone the past few months, okay? People forgot about the cross-dressing freak, and I’d like for it to stay that way,” she answers. Mikey’s not an idiot, he knows that Gerard/Gee is neither a cross-dresser nor a freak, but he doesn’t argue, because Gee’s in one of those moods where she’s trying to demean herself and nothing can stop that. Gerard can be a pretty self-destructive person in any gender.

“I won’t tell anyone who you don’t expressly permit me to tell, I just hope you know what you’re doing. Frank’s a nice guy and in a lot of ways you’re lying to him,” Mikey replies.

“It’s not lying. It’s my truth to tell anyway. Give me some time to trust him, okay?” Gee replies, and Mikey sighs again.

“You know how easy it would be though? I’d just say to him ‘hey there’s something you don’t know about Gerard, but I’ll let Gerard tell you in person.’ Then you’d just introduce yourself, tell him that your gender identity changes from day to day, and that would be it. That’s all that you’d really need to say. This is college, Gee, no one gives a shit. I saw a guy go to class in a penguin onesie. My neighbors are having a Blues Clues marathon as we speak, I can actually hear the ‘we just got a letter’ song right now between the walls. The people across the hall from me have the words ‘damn it, who invited moon moon’ written on their door.”

“That’s all very well and good Mikey, but please don’t patronize me. I’m going to stay in, and I don’t doubt that you believe Frank is an upstanding guy, but this is _my_ choice. Emphasis on the ‘my’ part. I’m not dissing your friend, I’m telling you that that’s the way I feel,” she says.

“God, I’m not trying to be mean, Gee, I’m really not. I’m sorry if it came across that way. You know I worry about you so I might as well not even say it, but I do. I worry that distancing yourself from everyone is going to make you get lost again, and I don’t want you to be lost. I just want you to know that you can be whoever the fuck you are, under the parameters that you’re not hurting anyone. You’re not hurting anyone so that’s why I’m in favor of you being yourself with people,” Mikey says.

“I know I get it, Mikey. I know that it sucks having me as a sibling.”

“That’s not what I meant! I didn’t say that. You know I didn’t say that. I just want you to reevaluate those guidelines, Gee. It doesn’t matter who you are as long as you’re not hurting anyone, but you are hurting yourself by locking yourself away.”

“Not like I used to. Not when it was strangling me,” she says, and Mikey frowns. Those were not good days. Before Gee had been able to come out to anyone it had killed them. Mikey tries not to think about it too much.

“Just remember that there’s nothing wrong with being different, okay? I’d hate to see it start to kill you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to give a little heads up to everybody that I’m going to be introducing some homophobia into the next chapter that is going to be unfortunate to have to write, but in order to progress the story I want to tell, it is a necessity. Just remember that the views of a character are not always shared by the views of an author.


	7. Fake It Don't Mean You Make It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gee pretends to be someone she isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I didn’t know how to write this without sounding ridiculous, but there was no other way to introduce these issues. Anyway I’d say it’s the most important chapter so far. Two of the biggest issues being explained further (or introduced as the case may be).

“Now that is fucking low,” Frank says, and Mikey turns to see what he’s looking at. It’s just a flyer on the bulletin board, and he steps around Frank to get a closer look as to what it says.

He agrees after he reads it though. That is fucking low. The first thing that jumps out at him is the heading that reads simply ‘Traditional Values for True Christians.’ 

Mikey doesn’t know what a ‘true Christian’ is meant to be. On one hand he’d always thought that Christianity was about not hating anyone and forgiving people, but on the other hand, the rise of things like the WBP make him question that philosophy. It’s not that Mikey has anything against religions at all, it’s just that he is against _hateful_ religions. There’s a distinct variation between believing things and shoving your beliefs down other people’s throats. The bottom line is that whether using religion as an excuse or not, homophobia as well as transphobia is the act of condemning an entire group of people for something they can’t control. It’s bullying, and it’s wrong.

Technically under the first amendment everyone in America has the right to freedom of religion. There is however a difference between religion, education, and state. There’s a reason that the church doesn’t run the state and it’s because there are different religions. So why is it okay for some religions to spew their hate and not for others? Why are some religions allowed to have a pull in the government when others aren’t?

Under the heading on the flyer there’s some bullshit about being happy with what god gave you and a bible quote that he decides not to read, because it’s only going to piss him off even more.

“What do you suppose traditional values means?” Frank asks, “Hate filled shit, or shit filled hate?”

“How can they get away with that though? There’s an LGBT club here already. What purpose is it meant to serve?”

“Mikey, read the fine print, it’s an unofficial club. Not school sanctioned. They can do whatever the hell they want, and since it’s privately operated there’s very little the school can do about it.”

“It’s bullshit,” he answers, grabbing the flyer and ripping it off of the bulletin board. Mikey’s a little defensive about some things and people who undermine Gee’s existence are people he’d like to punch in the crotch. Or the boob, respectively.

“Mikey, I don’t know if you should do that,” Frank says.

“Too late, I fucking did,” Mikey replies crumpling the paper up in his hands and then throwing it in the garbage.

“They’re just going to put another flyer back up.”

“And I’ll tear it down,” Mikey replies.

“Mikes, I’m not saying you don’t have the right to be mad, but I think that you’re taking it a bit personally. It’s not directed at anyone specifically,” Frank says.

“No that’s the problem, it’s a broad generalization. It’s an umbrella insult to anyone who isn’t a straight cisgender Christian.”

“Well what do you want to do about it considering the fact that we don’t really have any voice? I’m sure there’s going to be an uproar though, I mean come on. People aren’t that ignorant and vacuous that they’ll allow someone to just trounce on and disparage anyone who isn’t strictly ‘traditional.’ Hell, I don’t think there even is a fucking consistency in traditional anymore. It’s only the tradition of one group of people who are greatly outnumbered by the opposition.”

“It really bothers me Frank. I mean, I just hate that they’d... I hate it. My skin crawls just thinking about these people.”

“Just remember that you’re better than people who preach their hate. Everyone knows it’s not gonna last as well. There isn’t a thing wrong with being gay or bi or whatever the hell else. There isn’t anything wrong with being a chick in a dude’s body or a dude in a chick’s body, or anything outside or in between. You can tell those fuckheads that all you want, but they’re not going to listen. They’re stubborn.”

“What’d you mean with that last part? The outside or in between thing?” Mikey asks. That’s the best proof he’s going to be able to give to Gee, and it’s really fucking painful to see Gee so afraid of everyone. On the other hand, knowing that there’s a group of people on the campus who are strictly against his entire existence will do anything but encourage Gerard to interact with people. It’s even more likely that Gee will just block everyone away even further. If Gee hears wind of this, it’ll set back any progress they’ve made in the past year.

“Just that I don’t give a shit what you feel you are, transgender or something else, as long as you’re not a fucking asshole,” Frank replies.

He looks at Frank and wonders if it’s a personal offense to Frank, and he’s struck with the fact that he has absolutely no idea what Frank is into. Sure he’ll make jokes about Frank’s nonexistent sex-life, but it had never even occurred to Mikey that he had no idea what Frank’s orientation was. It’s just honestly never come up in conversation. He’s one of those people who could be both flamboyantly homosexual, or just a really strange hetero at the exact same time, and you wouldn’t be able to figure it out. It’s probably too late in their friendship for him to actually ask Frank though. Mikey has no idea to be perfectly candid.

“Frank, are you gay?” Mikey asks without even thinking about it. Luckily this is Mikey, so it’s the exact same tone he would use to ask someone if they’ve been to Walmart recently.

“Where’d that come from?” Frank asks.

“I just realized that I have no idea,” Mikey replies.

“Well Mikes, if you want me to be completely frank, and yes that pun was intentional, then I have no fucking idea.”

“No clue?”

“Well I’ve got sort of an idea, but I don’t really care. I don’t see why I need a label,” Frank answers. Not many people will just bluntly ask things like that, but Mikey doesn’t mean it offensively, probably, he’s just strange like that.

“Good enough for me,” Mikey says, and the whole conversation seems to be put to rest for a few minutes as they grab food, and then find a table near the back of the cafeteria.

“I will say though, that I find myself extremely attracted to Idris Elba.”

“I feel you bro,” Mikey nods, “I’d tap that.”

~*~*~*~

Mikey’s jaw almost drops when he sees Gerard enter the cafeteria about ten minutes later. Not Gee, Gerard. Gerard, dressed like a boy, wearing no makeup whatsoever.

Gerard walks over to them and Frank looks up more in surprise than in utter shock like Mikey.

“Gerard?” Mikey asks.

“Yeah, hey Mikes,” Gerard answers.

“Are you... why are you here?”

“I was feeling sociable,” Gerard replies.

“What does that mean?” Mikey asks.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asks, “I’m lost.”

Mikey looks at Gerard either accusatorily or confusedly, and stands up to be level with Gerard. He gives the elder a good look in the eye before deciding he knows precisely what’s going on.

“I need to speak with you in private, _Gerard_ ,” Mikey says and the way he says the name makes it sound like a vile insult or something.

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m a little pissed at you,” Mikey says, thinking of calling Gee out right here in front of Frank, but he knows better than that. He’d only be making things worse.

Mikey brings him to the side of the cafeteria where there’s a second exit that is seldom used, because there’s nothing much of interest in the hallway outside. They exit the large room and he brings Gee to a stop outside of it, where they’re not likely to be overheard.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mikey asks.

“Getting lunch? Interacting with other human beings like you wanted me to?” Gee says.

“I didn’t want you to pretend to be someone else, Gee,” Mikey states.

“What? I’m not pretending!”

“Oh right, you just started to feel more like a boy right after I asked you to come hang out with me,” Mikey says.

“Yes,” Gee says defensively.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” Mikey replies, “Why would you do this? I wasn’t actually mad at you, you know. Well I am now. I don’t want you to put on a different face and hate yourself on the inside just to feel ‘normal.’ This isn’t okay. You know that.”

“But Mikes-”

“No, Gee. We both know what happens when you try to kid yourself. We both know that it doesn’t work for you. Don’t let yourself drown just because you think it’ll make people like you,” Mikey says.

“Why do you think that’s why I’m doing this?”

“Because it fucking is and we both know that. I’m not an idiot, Gee, I know you. I know who you are and I know what you act like when you’re faking this. You think that being a boy all the time will make people think you’re normal so they won’t be freaked out by hanging out with you, but you’re not always a boy are you, Gee? You’re not now, but you’re pretending to be.”

“Shh,” Gee says putting a finger to her lips, because someone could overhear, though it’s doubtful. It’s kind of strange for Mikey when he sees Gee so obviously trying to act masculine when that’s not the case. He doesn’t like the way that it makes Gee feel so alien in her own body.

“Go back to your dorm, Gee. Either come back as yourself and actually tell Frank, or stay there and stop suppressing who you are, okay? You can’t do this to yourself, not again. I will not put up with your form of self-destruction.”

“You’re really mad?” she asks.

“I am when you do this to yourself,” Mikey says, “Self-harm doesn’t have to leave a mark, Gee. It doesn’t have to be physical to be detrimental.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there. I don’t think you can see it, but right now, just looking at you, you’re hurting yourself a million times more then you ever did with a lighter.”

She says, with warning in her voice, “That’s behind me.”

“But you’re fucking doing it right now!” Mikey says, trying to keep his voice down. “Don’t you remember what led to that? Don’t you remember why you thought you had to in the first place? It was this Gee. It was pretending to be a boy when you fucking aren’t sometimes.”

“I’ve said I’m sorry a thousand times over, Mikey. I’m really trying,” she says.

“Yeah, well you have a funny way of showing it,” Mikey states.

“You’re going to be mad at me no matter what I do, aren’t you Mikey?”

Mikey groans, “When did I ever say that? I don’t think it’s healthy to lock yourself away, but I also don’t want you to have to pretend to go out in public. I’d rather you stayed in your room all the time but remained true to yourself, then had a dozen friends and lied to every single one of them.”

“Fine,” Gee says, looking guilty, “I’ll go back to my room.”

“Do you want me and Frank to wait for you in the cafet-”

“No. You’d rather I never went out in public the way I am now then I won’t.”

“We both know I didn’t say that. You’re narrowing what I said into a point that I wasn’t trying to make.”

“I understand what you meant, just fine. You want me to leave, I’m leaving.”

“Gee!” Mikey says, voice rising despite himself, “just... ugh, fine. Mope or do whatever the hell it is you do when you lock yourself away. I’m trying to be the best brother to you I can, but you make it so hard when you insist upon pulling stunts like this.”

“It’s not a stunt, it’s a coping mechanism,” she says.

“It’s not a good one.”

Gee turns without another word and walks down the hall. Mikey actually sighs a little bit in relief, because it didn’t seem like Gee saw a flyer for that thing. Mikey’s going to have to make it a point to get that club disbanded, whatever it takes.


	8. Mikey's Hair is the Main Character of this Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the chapter where the biggest conflict is trying to find a light switch.

“You two have a strange relationship,” Frank sighs, flopping down onto his bed haphazardly. “I mean first you’re all ‘let’s ask Gee to come to lunch with us,’ and then you’re all ‘hey I have to talk to him in the hall, because there’s a giant secret we’re keeping from you Frank, but you’re too stupid to figure out that that’s going on so I won’t bother making a better cover than that.’”

“What are you-”

Frank summarizes the events at the cafeteria pretty well, “And then you’re like ‘hey look here’s Gerard, and he looks absolutely fine, and came here of his own free will, or so it would seem’ and then you’re all ‘I must mysteriously pull him away and have a ten minute conversation and then return to Frank and say he got sick, even though he looked healthy to me, but Frank’s too stupid to figure out that there’s some big secret we’re not telling him.’”

Mikey looks at Frank a little questioningly, and sighs, “I didn’t realize we were really that transparent.”

“Yeah, no, a six year old would have caught on. Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you what it is you’re not telling me, because I assume there’s a reason for keeping it a secret, just know that you’re not fooling me the tiniest amount,” Frank tells him.

“Well I mean, I’d tell you, but I’m not in the position to tell you. It’s not-”

“No, I gotcha, just thought I’d tell you that I’m not _that_ dumb,” Frank says, “but if he’s murdered somebody I do feel like I have the right to know.”

“Well Gee’s only murdered a few people. Gerard only kills people shorter than 5’6 with at least four tattoos, who also wear way too much black.”

“Hey! I don’t wear too much black! I wear a perfectly normal amount of black. Seriously calm your tits boy, I don’t overdo it.”

“ _Please_ , you reek of death and Satanism,” Mikey retorts.

“My Satanism has nothing to do with the number of black clothing articles I own.”

Mikey sighs, “I really should petition for a new roommate. I mean I think I have a valid reason to get away from you.”

“What’s wrong with me?” Frank says and then makes a noise, “on second thought, please do not answer that question.”

“Good choice,” Mikey replies.

~*~*~*~

Frank groans, as the sound of his alarm pulls him from a particularly weird dream involving Bill Hader and a hiccupping camel playing with a parachute. It was strange.

He looks over to Mikey whose bedhead isn’t doing him any favors, but he has to get up early too so Frank doesn’t bother getting to the alarm that quickly. It’s an annoying beeping sound that is actually a form of torture in other countries. Or at least Frank believes that wholeheartedly. He gets the alarm clock to shut up, and then tries to remember what day it is, where he is, who the current president is, and his own name. He gets stuck on that last one, because he’s pretty sure his name isn’t Rebecca, but that’s the first thing that pops into his mind.

“Frank,” Mikey groans, and Frank has an epiphany moment, because of course, his name is Frank! Mikey could’ve called him any other name, like Winston and he’d have probably had Frank going for at least a few minutes. He is not a morning person. 

“The fuck do you want?” Frank asks, rolling his legs out of bed where he stares at the ground, trying to make out his feet in the dark room. The pale skin seems to blend in with everything around him, and he’s only able to pinpoint them when he wiggles his toes around a little bit. Frank’s metacognition isn’t as good as it could be. Sometimes he hits himself in the nose with a fork.

“A million dollars,” Mikey mumbles, grabbing for something on his bedside table which successfully knocks about twelve things on the ground in the process.

“Don’t we all,” Frank replies, trying to stand up, but he falls over onto his bed after his knees unsuccessfully hold him up.

“W’time is it?”

“I don’t even know what fucking year it is, Mikes,” Frank replies.

“1941.”

“Is that why I heard a siren going off just now?”

“World War II jokes, ha. Too early for that shit,” Mikey grumbles without amusement.

“You just said you had no idea what time it is,” Frank points out.

“Too early for World War II jokes. That’s what time it is,” Mikey says.

“Well if you’d said it was a different year then I’d have made a different joke,” Frank replies, trying to stand up again, effectively this time.

He stares down at the floor below him, though it’s just a different shade of black as everything else in the room. The only light they have is coming from the digital clock on the alarm that Frank just pummeled. It casts a very blue shadow that’s got a range of about two inches. Frank has to just guess where the door is, and fumble around for the light switch.

“Ah that’s so much better,” Mikey says, after finding his glasses, which had fallen to the floor with all of his other shit. “The dark isn’t blurry anymore. Nice and clear, but also completely black.”

Frank rolls his eyes, though Mikey has no way of knowing that, and his hand slaps at the wall, where he bends his pinky painfully and swears.

“Don’t do that!”

“Do what?”

“That,” Mikey says.

“Glad I have you to give me such splendid advice,” Frank says, and his hand finally finds the switch so he flicks it on.

“Fuck, too bright!” Mikey yells, “I’m a goddamn Vampire, Frank! I don’t do light.”

“That’s sunlight you dumb fuck, and good. I wanted to turn you to stone,” Frank replies.

“That’s trolls,” Mikey says.

“It could be Vampires too,” Frank replies, squinting at the bright room. “Well whatever, I’ve gotta take a piss.”

“Have fun,” Mikey says, pulling himself into a sitting position, but his hair should not be seen in the light. He looks like he’s participating in a Jedward lookalike contest.

“I don’t know how to respond to that. I dig the quiff by the way,” Frank snorts, and Mikey furiously tries to pat down his hair, but he’s just making it messier.

Frank smirks again, and grabs the doorknob, pulling it open. He nearly walks into the person outside who is a very lazily dressed Gerard.

“Do not fucking do that, I just woke up and you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Frank says, feeling his heart literally thump painfully at fast speed in his chest.

“How was I supposed to know you were going to open the door right as I was about to knock?”

“Telekinesis,” Frank says with a ‘duh’ oozing into his voice.

“Gee?” Mikey asks, because he can’t see through Frank, and into the hallway.

“Yeah, it’s me, Gerard,” he says, telling Mikey precisely what the situation is for right now.

“I’m going to pee, you two have your brotherly talk. Exchange your missile plans, and write up blueprints on how to infiltrate Fort Knox, but get it done by the time I get back or I’ll learn all your juicy little secrets,” Frank says, pushing past Gerard.

“What’s up, bro?” Mikey asks, when the door closes behind Frank.

“I just wanted to apologize for how I was acting yesterday. You have no idea how hard it is to have the body of a guy 24-7, but the mind of a girl half that time. It’s not fun having to worry about people realizing that I’m two different people,” he says.

“But you’re not two different people. You’re Gee. You always _have_ been, and you always _will_ be. Sometimes you go by Gerard, and sometimes you’re more comfortable as Gee, but you’re always going to be you,” Mikey says.

“Oh man, cut the cheesiness, it’s such a cliché. You make me feel like I’ve stepped into an afterschool special.”

“I am way too attractive to be cast in an afternoon special!” Mikey says.

“Yeah, whatever you say Jimmy Neutron,” Gerard teases.

“Dammit!” Mikey yelps, profusely working at his hair again. He stands up and walks to his desk, trying to tame it with a brush, while Gerard just sneers at him.

“I’ve been out in public a lot though, I’m getting better with makeup and stuff. I think I’ve gotten the hang of countouring,” he says. Makeup had never really been something Gerard was inclined to learn, but he’s an artist after all. Makeup is just a different medium.

“I don’t know what the fuck that means,” Mikey says honestly, turning to look at Gerard.

“Just means that I think it’s harder to recognize me, and that’s the goal. I want to look like a different person so people don’t catch on that I’m genderfluid,” Gerard says, leaning on the desk that is Frank’s.

“Well why the fuck should you care about what they think? I don’t want to think that you make yourself unrecognizable,” Mikey says wrinkling his nose. His eyes water as he gets a knot out of his hair, and it’s hard to believe he even gets knots in his hair because it’s so short. He tends to be all limbs and contortion when he’s sleeping though, so there’s often a lot of tangling, both with hair and blankets.

“Well Frank certainly didn’t recognize me,” Gerard says.

“Frank wouldn’t recognize Brad fucking Pitt if he wore a nametag on his forehead,” Mikey replies, “and when did he see you? You hardly let _me_ see you when you’re feeling girly.”

“I’ve experimented I told you! He saw me in the library, before you’d even introduced us. I am getting better, whether you believe that or not. I let people see me all the time, I just never introduce myself.”

“Well that’s something,” Mikey says, “I think you need some friends though. People who you can be yourself with whatever kind of a day it is. I think Frank is a good candidate. Me and Frank know this other guy. Our friend Patrick, he lives a little ways down the hall, you could hang with him too. A few other people, but I’d just assume start with Frank.”

“Mikes, I’ve told people before, and you know I don’t like to do that,” Gerard says. High school was hard for Gerard. The friends Gerard had had were not really... real. When Gerard had figured it all out, Gee had made the attempt to be honest about it with everyone, but that’s when the fear of being discovered originated. Everyone fled from Gerard, and they’ve had trouble trusting people ever since. On some levels it’s understandable to be a little off put by the matter, but to completely write Gerard off altogether has never made sense to Mikey.

“You told people who were already around you, without considering how they’d take it first. You felt like you had an obligation to tell them, because they’d known you for so long. Frank is different, Frank’s someone you can evaluate and come to your own conclusion with. Give it a shot, if I’m wrong you have my total permission to kick me in the balls,” Mikey says.

The door opens and Frank steps back in, nearly hitting Gerard when it swings open.

“Whoops,” Frank says stifling a laugh, “shit. Next time I’ll have better aim and get you right in the face.”

Gerard grins, but moves out of the way to let Frank enter his own room.

“I guess I’ll see you later, Mikes,” Gerard says, grabbing the door and holding it open.

“Yeah, just think about what I said. Find someone you’d be willing to open up to,” Mikey says, and Gerard nods.

“I’ll think about it, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Gerard says, turning and closing the door behind him.

“He left before the show,” Frank says with a laugh.

“Frank, watching you undress is not a show. At least not one anybody wants to see,” Mikey says.

“Humph, says you,” Frank answers, pretending to be angry.

“Says anyone, well anyone with any taste.”

“Screw you, I could headline a burlesque show,” Frank says, making a strange sashay move with his hips, and forcing Mikey to turn away to laugh. No one can see him lose his sullen face, of course. What utter blasphemy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That comedy is making a return after the last two maybe-not-so funny chapters.


	9. It’s Time for a Proper Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But sadly there isn’t one in this chapter.

The days pass by slowly, but they do still go by, and it gets to be Friday. What feels like centuries was actually just four days, but Frank tends to be a drama queen. He’d seen a lot more of Mikey’s brother, nearly every evening except for Wednesday where he mysteriously got sick according to Mikey. He seemed fine the next day, but Frank doesn’t question it. 

He’s pretty sure that Gerard is a nice guy, though he’s very awkward, and secretive. Mikey’s just as secretive when the topic is centered around Gerard. 

The thing is that Frank’s pretty sure he finds Gerard attractive. He’s not certain, because Frank only barely knows Gerard, but at least aesthetically, he likes Gerard. Frank decides not to mention it to Mikey though, because that’s weird. Mikey is his roommate, and best friend, so he’ll leave the topic alone for now.

On Friday morning, Frank almost falls asleep in class. Almost. He probably _would have_ fallen asleep completely if his professor’s voice wasn’t driven by some sort of high-power helium. Seriously did the lady stuff a bunch of beans in her nose in her childhood and they got stuck?

Luckily though he only has two lectures on Fridays so Frank gets out of class a little before noon. The weather outside is brisk though, so he doesn’t want to walk all the way back to his dorm. The closest building is the library so he shrugs and makes his way to the building, but its freezing and he wishes he’d worn a coat, but he didn’t think that far ahead.

He checks his watch to see what time it is, and groans because part of him wants to go get himself some food, but the rest of him is lazy and broke. Actually most of him is lazy and broke. He frowns, but decides he’ll just wait. Or maybe he’ll hit up a vending machine, but there are none in the library building. They really keep up appearances in this place, because the librarians actually do scold people for talking too loud like they do in old cartoons. They also kick you out if you bring food in, which doesn’t seem exactly fair. A lot of people like to eat while they’re studying. 

He might duck out a little later if his hunger gets unbearable, or he might just go back to his dorm. He’s not positive what Mikey’s schedule looks like, but he shouldn’t be back until sometime after two, which gives Frank three hours. The library is still quiet though, so Frank walks along the bookshelves trying to stall the time until he has to get started on his work. Three more chapters of The Iliad need translating, and he’d better get started on it sooner rather than later. He would rather throw his textbook in a well though. He doesn’t have that much other work though because he’d gotten it done as it was assigned this week. Frank is learning! He is very proud of himself. He doesn’t really have much to compare this triumph to though, so honestly, getting his work done in advance is a hell of an accomplishment for Frank.

Frank walks over to his usual table in the corner, and sees someone else bent over a book. He doesn’t pay them any mind, but grabs a chair and collapses into it, before remembering he forgot to ask if he could.

“Shit, do you mind if I sit here?” Frank asks, already grabbing his laptop from his computer.

The person looks up, and Frank vaguely sees their head pop up out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t pay much attention. The person makes a squeaking noise and then looks back down at their book, so Frank looks up wondering whether that was an affirmative or negative answer.

It’s a girl, he can tell that much from her clothes, but she’s pulled her black hair to cover her face, and she’s leaning over her book at such an angle that Frank can’t see any of her features. He’s pretty sure it’s the same girl that had stared at him at this exact table a little while ago. He can’t remember how long ago that was, but it had struck him as weird, so he remembers the encounter. For the life of him though, Frank can’t remember what that girl had looked like. He remembers hazel eyes, and he’s pretty sure she’d had black hair, but he could be totally flubbing the details.

She brings a hand up to her face, obscuring Frank’s view of her even more, and he just decides that she said yes. His feet are tired and they aren’t keen about carrying him to a different table so he makes the choice that her squeal was an assent that he can indeed sit here.

Frank turns his computer on, and then finds himself staring at the bright screen for what feels like forever. All he can do is just look at his keyboard and try to form the courage to actually press something. His hands experiment against the track pad mindlessly, and his eyes follow the cursor around the desktop like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. Frank’s running on like four hours of sleep though, so watching the cursor move around is actually entertaining him quite a bit.

He groans, snapping out of his reverie when his brain gives him a newsflash that he’s been staring blankly at the screen for almost ten minutes now without doing anything. He tenses up at the thought of writing or reading anything, but he grabs his copy of The Iliad which he may or may not have thrown at a few walls. The book is still in fair condition, though the corners are frayed from being flicked and stuffed into bags. He would rather do anything then read the damn thing, but he just sighs, and pulls it to the page where he left off. He’d rather stop on that page and never read the rest of it, but that is out of the question. Every moment of every day, Frank has regretted taking Greek.

Luckily for Frank he’s nearly completed the book, but his eyelids are still rooting against him, as they keep drifting off the page. Every now and then Frank writes a few notes on the computer to keep his thoughts in track, but his reading rate is slowing down by the second. He only makes it through three pages before he’s already too bored to function.

Frank looks up to see that the girl in front of him as eased her posture, and he evaluates her a little more closely.

Her face is perfect, far too perfect for it to be natural, so she’s probably wearing makeup. Frank’s not against makeup, because it doesn’t really concern him. If a girl wants to wear makeup, that’s her choice and he has no place to say anything of it. He assumes that whosoever it is wearing the makeup wears it to make themselves feel better about the way they look, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to look good for yourself or anyone else. The purpose in most cases is to make a person look better, and he’d be lying if he said that makeup doesn’t make people look better. Everyone looks better with it, and that’s kind of the point. That doesn’t mean a person looks bad without makeup, because they do, but still, the point is to feel comfortable with the way you look. Objectively, Frank couldn’t give a shit how much of a person’s face comes from a bottle, as long as that person is happy with it.

The thing about this girl’s makeup is that it doesn’t conceal her face from recognition, and Frank definitely recognizes her, though he thinks his mind is playing a trick on him. She’s looking down so she doesn’t notice Frank gawking, but he can’t help it, because there is something exceedingly familiar about that face.

It’s probably the lack of sleep talking but she looks just like...

“Gerard?” Frank asks, bewildered. The girl looks _just_ like Mikey’s brother though.

The girl looks up at him, shocked, and she does look familiar, but he’s not quite sure if he’s right about where. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at Frank with wide eyes for a long moment. They hold each other’s gaze for what feels like hours. Hazel meets brown, and there’s nothing else, but their tacit staring contest at all in this moment.

All of a sudden, in a flash, she bolts up and grabs her jacket. Then she’s running. Her skirt billows behind her, catching its own breeze from how fast she speeds away.

Frank sits back in his chair trying to figure out what he just saw. The girl vanishes behind a bookshelf a few seconds after she gets up, and it doesn’t make any sense. She just inexplicably ran away from Frank. 

Was that Gerard? That wasn’t Gerard. It looked like Gerard. Maybe that was just a girl who happened to look like a female version of Gerard. If she was just a girl who looked like Gerard though, wouldn’t she have been confused by Frank calling her by that name? If that was just another random girl isn’t it unlikely that she’d have had that reaction? It was just mistaken identity if that’s the case, so running away is pretty bizarre.

So what if that was Gerard then? Why would Gerard have been dressed as a chick? Why did she, or he, or they, or whatever, run away from Frank instead of acknowledging him? Frank’s sleep deprived brain can’t come up with a clear answer no matter how hard he tries to think about it.

“What the hell just happened?” he whispers to himself.

Frank’s decided that that girl either knows Gerard, or _was_ Gerard. How could that be Gerard though?

Maybe Gerard has a twin sister? No, that makes no sense, why wouldn’t Mikey have told Frank that he had two siblings? Unless one of them was in Witness Security, but he highly doubts that. Why on earth would witsec put one of their charges in the same exact place as their family? It wouldn’t make sense, so Frank banishes that theory.

Maybe Gerard is just a cross-dresser and Frank scared him. Maybe Gerard is transgender or something. Why did he run away then? Or they. Or she. Now Frank doesn’t know what word to use. 

That person looked like Gerard though, and Frank thinks it’s far more likely that she _was_ Gerard over just looking like him. He’s heard of doppelgangers, but in the case of that girl, it would be more like cloning. No one can look that much like Gerard. Frank highly doubts that he’s stumbled across a real live version of Orphan Black, so that has to have been Gerard.

Why did they run away then! It’s pissing Frank off because he can’t seem to come to a conclusion.

The thought crosses his mind that Gerard was embarrassed about it though, and he hopes that’s not the case, because he had thought that Gerard was becoming a friend of his. Frank’s never thought of himself as distrustful, but maybe he really did scare them.

That could be the secret then that the Way’s are keeping from him, and if that’s the case, then maybe that’s why Gerard makes intermittent disappearances, like on Wednesday.

Whatever the case, Frank really needs to talk to Gerard about it. Or Mikey, though he’d prefer it was Gerard, because he’s downright perplexed.

Why did she run away though? Frank’s almost offended, but he’ll suspend judgment until he has a discussion with Gerard about it. Frank is way too tired for this shit, but now his brain just won’t shut up. 

Was that really Gerard Way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment? Pretty Please!?


	10. Not Frank's Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

Frank sits in the library trying to come up with a plan for several minutes before he decides he can’t wait any longer. He packs up his stuff and runs out of the library. The cold is discomforting, but he doesn’t stop until he gets to his building. He then walks quickly down the hall to his room, and pulls his door open, to reveal Mikey sitting on his bed with a book in his hand.

“Hey Frank,” Mikey says, not looking up.

“Mikey, I need to know where Gerard’s dorm is,” Frank says, wasting no time with pleasantries.

“Why? And you can’t see Gerard today. Gerard is-”

“A girl? Yeah, I saw.”

Mikey who’d been looking at his book with bored eyes, practically jumps up in surprise at Frank’s words. He puts his book down, and looks at Frank intently, saying absolutely nothing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mikey says, and the lie is so plainly written on his face, that Frank thinks he might as well have told Frank that he’s really Lucille Ball in disguise.

“Cut the shit, Mikes,” Frank says, “I saw Gerard in the library, dressed as a chick. Either that was Gerard or you slipped something in my coffee this morning when I wasn’t looking.”

Mikey shakes his head, and grabs his book, “I am not talking about this with you, Frank.”

“That’s why I asked you where he lives! You can’t expect me to just pretend I didn’t see what I saw, because I did,” Frank exclaims.

“You’re just tired, you stayed up late last night.”

“I am not insane, Mikey!” Frank yells, sounding angrier than he’d hoped too, “I want to know what’s going on. Gerard ran away from me before I could ask, and that’s not exactly fair to me.”

“Life isn’t fair, Frank,” Mikey says monotonously.

Frank, whose temper is rising because of the way that Mikey is completely disregarding him, yanks the book away from Mikey’s fingers. He’d understand Mikey not wanting to discuss the topic, but to call Frank crazy is crossing a line.

“Mikey, no offense, but you’re being a bitch. Do you see me insulting him? No, I’m not, I just want to know what’s going on! I think that’s a reasonable thing to ask for. Gerard is someone I’m acquainted with enough to know what’s going on,” Frank says.

“It’s just not something my family is comfortable talking about, Frank,” Mikey says grabbing the book back from Frank. “Especially Gerard.”

“I’m not trying to be mean here, Mikey! How would you feel if you were just trying to do your work and then a guy you know, who you even consider a _friend_ , is sitting across from you dressed as a girl? Yes, I’ll say it, I was freaked out at first, but now I just want to know what’s going on! What do you want me to say? I’m not judging? I’m not, if that helps! I just want to know what the hell is up,” Frank states.

“Okay, so what happened then? You were at the library, you saw a person that looked like Gerard, and you called her name or something? Then she ran away. Wouldn’t that be a good tell for you to keep your nose out of it?”

“Mikey!” Frank says desperately.

“What? If she doesn’t want to talk to you, she doesn’t have to. It’s not my choice who she talks to. I don’t want you to bother her if she doesn’t want to see you, okay? No matter how you feel, Gerard is still my sibling, and I will respect Gee’s right to privacy.”

“But I-” Frank doesn’t know how to respond, because Mikey does make a pretty good point, but he’s still so confused.

“It’s not like you have any divine right to know everything about Gerard. Believe me, this is much harder on Gee than it is on you.

“But why?” Frank asks.

“Because she’s extremely self-conscious, and you probably scared her shitless.”

“I’m not trying to be rude about it, Mikey. I just want answers.”

“And maybe you’ll have them, maybe you won’t. It’s not my place to decide. Anyway, it’s not about you. It’s about Gerard. This isn’t about the way you’ll treat Gee, it’s about the way that Gee will feel about themself. I’m not in a place to risk that it’s going to hurt Gee, so until I know how Gerard feels about you knowing, Frank. I’m not going to talk about it.”

“You are so... gah!” Frank shouts, and he walks over to his bed before collapsing, and burying his head in a pillow.

“I’m not being unreasonable, and I think you know that,” he says, “just let the situation cool down, okay? When I’m confident that it’s an okay time to ask Gerard, or have you ask yourself, then I will, but for now, let it be.”

“Well when will that be?” Frank asks.

“It’s not like I have a schedule for this or anything. You weren’t supposed to find out like this,” Mikey says.

“Find out what?” he asks with irritation.

“I’m not going to fall for that, dumbass,” Mikey says, “please, let me handle it for now.”

Mikey gets up and Frank watches him from his place on the bed. He watches Mikey pull on a coat like he’s getting ready to go out.

“So when you say I wasn’t supposed to find out _like this_ does that mean, I was supposed to find out in some other way?”

Mikey sighs, “Well I wanted you to know. I still do, if I’m going to be honest. It’s just that Gerard is having a lot of trouble accepting it on their own, and just isn’t in the right headspace to tell people yet.”

“Just... I mean, I want you to know whatever it is that’s going on, if Gerard is like, uh, transgender or something, I’m not upset about that. I mean, it’s fine to me, I just, I mean I guess I want to know why he had to run away. Or she, or they,” Frank says, stumbling on the correction. Mikey had said ‘they’ so Frank tries to file that knowledge away for the future.

~*~*~*~

“He freaked out, Mikey! I swear to god, he must hate me.”

“Frank told me that all that happened was he saw you, and then you ran away,” Mikey replies.

“Well of course I ran away. What if he yelled at me or something! What if he’d gotten really fucking pissed off and tried to call me out in front everyone in the library or something.”

“You know Frank. You do, and you know he wouldn’t do that. He’s really easygoing, Gee.”

“But I totally scared him, I know I did. How does he not hate me? _I_ hate me!”

“You’re being hard on yourself. Frank told me that he wasn’t upset or anything. He was a little offended actually that you ran away. He thinks you’re mad at _him_ , and I can’t say I really blame him,” Mikey explains.

“But I didn’t want him to know, Mikes! I still don’t want him to know, it’s not fair that he found out when I didn’t even choose to tell him myself. If I was going to tell him, I’d have wished I’d actually _told_ him.”

“I understand, Gee. I do, but it’s too late now. What happened happened, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“But-”

“No but’s, no what if’s. It’s done, so you just have to try to accept that, and move on from here. Frank isn’t upset, though. At least you know that. You were nervous that he’d be angry or abandon you, but Frank isn’t that type of person.”

“He could be though, Mikey,” Gee says, doing just about anything to convince herself that she’s screwed up, “maybe he really is upset and you didn’t see it.”

“Or maybe you’re being too harsh on yourself,” Mikey says. “You needed to open yourself up to someone anyway, maybe this is your chance! Maybe deep down you know that, and that’s what’s got you bugging out so much. You were already there when Frank sat down, so why didn’t you just leave?”

“Because I thought that would draw more attention! I freaked out, okay. I freaked out, so I hid myself from him, and then I guess I thought I was still hidden, but I was wrong, and now I’ve royally messed everything up.”

“You have to just calm down. Just breathe, just get your feet back underneath you. Are you going to be okay with talking to Frank maybe? He’s not mad, remember.”

“But maybe he would be if I talked to him,” she answers.

“Or maybe he wouldn’t be. He said it to me, directly to me that he wasn’t angry, so it’s very possible that he was telling the truth about that. In fact, I’d say that’s the most likely possibility.”

Gee groans, “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“ _Make_ him understand! Explain it to him if you have to, and try to remember who we’re talking about. This is Frank, a guy who cries during Toy Story 3-”

“Everyone cries during Toy Story 3.”

Mikey has to admit that Gee’s right about that one, “Well still. He’s not very intimidating. I mean, he really isn’t. He’s a good person, and so are you, so just let him in.”

“And if you’re wrong about him?”

“Like I said earlier. If I’m wrong, you have my permission to kick me in the balls,” Mikey says.

“I don’t really want to,” Gee answers, wrinkling her nose.

“Well you might not say that if I turn out to be wrong about Frank. Besides, I’m pretty sure that I’m _not_ wrong about Frank, so I don’t think I really have that much to worry about.”

“We’ll see.”

“Is that a yes?” Mikey asks, crossing his fingers.

“It’s not a no, but it’s not a yes.”

“It’s good enough for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry there will be an actual introduction soon.


	11. Coming Clean (If That's Even the Right Term)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I tried, I hope this isn't as bad as I think it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of wrote myself into a corner with the last chapter because I didn’t really know how to write this bit, but I did, and I tried my best, so I hope it’s okay.

So far it’s been a week since the incident at the library, and Frank’s curiosity has not mulled over in the slightest, but he’s not as frantic as before. He just can’t shake the thought that Gerard now hates him. He doesn’t want Gerard to hate him, because it would really suck.

When Frank gets back to his room after class he finds Mikey already there, typing quickly away on his laptop.

“Hey, Gerard called.”

Frank’s ears perk up immediately when Mikey says that, and he gulps as well a little nervously.

“Oh?” He tries to ask calmly, but it sounds high-pitched.

“Contain yourself,” Mikey says, “he’s still really afraid that you’re not going to accept him, which I consider to be stupid, because if you don’t accept Gee I will push you off a pier.”

“Harsh.”

“Not as harsh as I would be if I didn’t want to worry about serving jail time,” Mikey states. “If you want to talk to Gee though, you can go by their room.”

“You serious?” Frank asks.

“Yes, but be careful. Be sensitive. You’ll be the first person outside of the family that Gee’s told in a very long time, so it’s scary.”

“But Gerard has told me nothing,” Frank points out.

“And hopefully that will change,” Mikey says, “It’s taking a lot of bravery for Gerard to open up to you, so really, just be appreciative of that.” 

“I will, don’t worry. I don’t want to lose hi-, or I mean, _their_ trust,” Frank says.

“Good,” Mikey says, and then looks up at Frank for the first time since he’d entered the room, “I really hope you can make Gee realize that there’s nothing wrong with being themself. Gerard, and I, and our family, and just everyone, really need that.”

“That’s a lot of pressure you’re putting on me,” Frank says.

“I know, but I trust you.”

~*~*~*~

Frank stands in front of the door that is the exact same as every other door. It’s the exact same pale wood in every respect, but it’s not because this is _Gerard’s_ door.

He’s honestly petrified, and is considering just running away, but eventually he finds the courage to rap his knuckles against the door.

“Frank,” Gerard says when he answers the door. At least he _looks_ male, but Frank’s going to go into this open-minded. “Mikey talked to you?”

“No actually I knocked on every door on campus until I found yours,” Frank says sarcastically.

“That seems a little extreme, you know you could have just had a word with the housing people,” Gerard says.

Frank groans, “That would have saved me so much time!”

Gerard giggles, like actually giggles, and it loosens Frank up a little bit. He’d been so worried that Gerard hated him that he didn’t even consider the idea that nothing has really changed with them.

“Do you wanna come in?” Gerard asks, and Frank nods.

He looks into Gerard’s room and decides that messiness must run in the family. Gerard’s practically untidier than Mikey. Clothes are everywhere, and so are books, and there’s a pizza box sticking out from under the bed. He just rolls his eyes, because he’s almost used to it, having lived with Mikey for so long.

“You Way’s never clean you’re fucking messes,” Frank says, offhandedly.

“Sorry,” Gerard says, closing the door, but he doesn’t look too concerned.

“Uh, do you want to sit down?” Gerard asks.

“Is there even a chair in this room?” Frank asks.

Gerard gives him a face and points to one behind Frank, that’s in front of his desk. Gerard goes over to sit on the side of his bed, while Frank takes a seat on the chair.

“So,” Gerard starts, “I guess first of all, I should apologize about the other day.”

“No, it’s fine,” Frank says waving a hand.

“Well it was rude, and I shouldn’t have done that, but I did, and I’m sorry. It’s just that it all happened so fast, and you’re just a really great person, and it felt awful.”

“Not _really_ great. I am great, but I think ‘really’ might be pushing it,” Frank says.

“And modest too,” Gerard adds.

“Oh I am very modest.”

Gerard smiles, and Frank hopes that he is as comfortable around him as Mikey seems to think he is.

“I guess I should explain things then,” Gerard says after a few seconds of silence.

“Only if you want to,” Frank says.

“Well see the thing is that I’m never going to want to, but I know that I probably should, because Mikey wants me to. I also know that you’re probably not going to be really awful about it, or at least I hope not.”

“Whatever you have to tell me I’ll do my best to understand. I will draw the line though if you tell me you’re a mass murderer or a Belieber.”

Gerard rolls his eyes, and then looks at his hands for the longest time, without saying anything. Frank says nothing either, because he doesn’t know what to say, and he doesn’t want to overstep his welcome, so he just waits. He watches Gerard out of the corner of his eye trying to reason with himself why he finds the guy so attractive.

“Frank?” Gerard says.

“Yeah?”

“I know you can’t promise anything really, but can you try to see me as the same person after I tell you this?” Gerard asks.

“I won’t see you as a different person,” he says, but Gerard shakes his head like he doesn’t believe that.

“Okay, well I guess I should just rip the Band-Aid off,” Gerard says. “I’m a girl, and I’m also a boy.”

He says it so plainly that Frank almost misses the confession entirely. He looks at Gerard curiously, and waits for him to continue, but it doesn’t seem like Gerard is going to.

“So you’re like... transgender?” Frank asks.

“Not exactly, no. I’m genderfluid.”

“Okay? I’m, um, not all that familiar with that, would you mind explaining?” Frank asks, feeling a little guilty because he’s not positive what that even means.

Gerard nods, “okay, well see, some days I identify as female. Some days I identify as male, and some days I identify as a mixture or neither, or something like that. Sometimes I just feel like more of a girl. I feel a more masculine energy or I feel a more feminine energy. I think usually I assume a more nonbinary gender role, but yeah, I am both a girl and a boy.”

“Okay,” Frank nods, “and does that have an effect on your sexuality, or are those two completely different things. I just wonder because if you’re attracted to females, then does that make you gay some days and straight on other days?”

“Not exactly. While they can be treated as similar, they are definitely two different things. See the thing with me is that I don’t have any romantic inclinations to either gender binary, because I myself, don’t fall under a single gender binary, so I feel like it would be hypocritical of me to try to narrow down on one sex,” Gerard says, and he feels a bit better about the situation now that he’s on a roll.

“Alright,” Frank says.

“So you understand?” 

“Yes. Well I mean, I understand what you mean in theory. I can’t say I know what it’s like in your head, though I imagine it’s very confusing. I believe that you are genderfluid, as you call it, but I also believe that I can never know precisely how that must feel,” Frank says. “I’ve got a couple more questions though.”

Gerard nods, taking a breath for the first time in a few minutes, “I’m glad you’re accepting though.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I get that some people have trouble being who they are, and I would never wish to impose on a persons will to their own body.”

Gerard smiles, wanting almost to give Frank a hug, but he refrains, “and your question?”

“Oh, I guess I was just curious as to how you identify as one gender one day, and another the next day? Like, by that I mean, is it the clothes you wear that demonstrate what role you’re assuming, or is it more of a mindset?”

“Well I guess it’s mostly how I choose to express myself that day. As I said, I usually like to encompass a nonbinary gender role, which is the way I act. I don’t really act more so like a girl on any given day then I do as a boy on another. A lot of it does have to do with the way I see myself, and want to look. I will most likely present myself in the clothes traditionally associated with femininity if I’m feeling like a girl, and vice versa. I always know how I feel based on the way my thoughts roam around my head. I think often it’s in subtlety that the differences are notable. Some days I’ll wake up and feel like a girl, so I have the urge to dress like one, but sometimes I wake up and feel like a girl, but don’t care how I dress. Usually though I dress as a girl, because it’s a preference.”

“So you can be dressed like a boy, but feel like a girl?” 

“I can, but usually it’s with a fair amount of difficulty. Usually it feels wrong. It’s my name that I don’t really mind as much. I always go by Gee, no matter what gender I identify with, but sometimes I can be Gerard as a girl without giving a fuck. My name isn’t what defines me, it’s the way I feel inside.”

“It doesn’t seem all that difficult to understand then,” Frank says, “and it’s because of this that you’re afraid of getting close to people?”

“I had a bad experience in high school,” Gerard says, “I’d only just figured it out myself and I tried to tell my friends, but they didn’t understand.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank says.

“It’s not your fault,” Gerard replies, “but it actually does feel really great to say this. It’s like getting a weight off my chest.”

“Well then, I guess all I can say is that I accept it, Gerard. To be honest I don’t care what gender you are, I just care that you’re you. You are a really great person, you know.”

Gerard snorts, “That’s so cheesy.”

“But it’s true,” Frank answers.

“Thank you,” Gerard says with a nod, “you really are great, Frank.”


	12. Let's Talk About Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really the title says it all, and I'm sorry I had to use a Celine Dion song title for this chapter name.

Maybe it’s because Frank is the first person Gerard’s told in years, or maybe it’s Frank’s face, but Gee finds it really hard to stop looking at the guy. It’s kind of like Frank’s face was sculpted by a really gifted artist. It’s kind of perfect. It does nothing to compare to Frank’s personality though.

Frank acts like the way Gerard imagines a newborn puppy would if it had a voice. He’s incredibly sarcastic as well, especially with Mikey, as he’s seen from close observation. Gerard wouldn’t have to look close at all though to see Frank’s sardonic nature. It’s not a bad thing necessarily, but sometimes he gets so lost in sarcasm that it starts sounding serious. He’s a fan of irony, that’s for sure.

“Can I just say, that I think you’re pretty brave, Gee,” Mikey states, a few days after the confession to Frank.

“Brave? One person does not make me brave. You were right though, about Frank. He’s great.”

“I know,” Mikey answers, “why do you think I kept telling you that. I’m smarter than you are half the time, and certainly better at analyzing a person’s character.”

“Pompous much?”

“But I’m right.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be pompous,” Gerard replies.

“Say whatever the hell you want about me, I’m great,” Mikey answers, “and when you say that you like Frank, do you mean that you like Frank the way I like Frank, or is the way that you creepily stare at him a sign of something else?”

“Jeez, do I do that? I didn’t know I did!” Gerard whines.

“Well you look at him like he’s the fucking Mona Lisa, and it only surprises me because he’s one ugly human being.”

“He is not! Mikey, you don’t really think that,” Gerard says, feeling almost personally victimized.

“No not really, but you defended him pretty firmly, so I’d say that you think of him in a different light than I do,” Mikey says.

“God, you’re awful,” Gerard frowns, “but that’s inconsequential. You just think it’s weird because I only ever talk to you, and I’m certainly not going to look at you with anything besides contempt.”

“I’m sorry, was that _content_?” Mikey asks, with a fake grin.

“You heard me. Contempt. Disdain. Derision.”

“Since when did you swallow a thesaurus?”

Gerard shrugs, “I have a word of the day calendar.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Mikey rolls his eyes.

“You’re a prick.”

“Original. Doesn’t your calendar cover insults?”

“No, why would it? Are you making fun of me? It was on sale!”

Mikey decides to drop it, and get back to the other topic at hand, “so you like Frank?”

“Don’t even go there. I don’t know, and I’m not ready for anything beyond a mutual acquaintance right now. Absolutely not ready for that,” Gerard says.

“But you can’t deny that. You can pretend that you don’t have feelings for him, maybe. Or don’t you? I’m pretty good at reading your mind, I think you do like him,” Mikey says.

“Keep your creepy little mind out of my thoughts. It’s just not something I want to have right now, or at all. Okay? It’s hard enough being a circus show as it, I don’t need to be a sitcom as well.”

“You’re not a circus show,” Mikey says angrily, “why do you insist on putting yourself down like that? It’s not just you you’re insulting when you say things like that!”

“You get upset too easily over it,” Gerard answers.

“I get upset the way a normal person fucking should. It’s rude, and I hate it. Just because you fall under the category of nonbinary, that doesn’t give you the right to demean it! That’s the same as a misogynistic girl, or a homophobic queer person.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Yeah it is, actually,” Mikey replies, “it’s not okay. Sometimes, Gerard, you really need to grow the fuck up.”

“What?”

Mikey groans, “I’m fucking sick of your ‘I’m a freak, no one will like me, let me put myself down’ thing. Yes, I get that you’re afraid of telling people. Yes, I understand and respect that you don’t want to _tell_ people. What I don’t understand or respect is you saying bad things about yourself. It’s just fucking stupid, because you know that I accept you, you know that Frank does, and you still say shit about yourself. It’s fucking stupid. You’re your biggest critic, and I’m sick of it.”

“But that’s how I think, Mikey.”

“Then don’t say it out loud,” Mikey replies, “it may be true that you think that way, but how about you keep it quiet and maybe having a more accepting aura will help you realize that _you are not a fucking freak_.”

“Why do I always feel like you know more about me than I do about myself,” Gerard asks.

“Because I’m not trying to see every single one of your flaws, dumbass,” Mikey answers.

“But you still see them, because I have a lot,” Gerard responds.

“Well you’re biggest flaw is the fact that you say shit like that. It’s exhausting having to hear you, someone who I care a lot about, always saying bad things about yourself, and you believe it. You fucking believe it,” Mikey sighs, “I’m not telling you or instructing you or anything, I’m just saying you should stop saying bad things like that. I’m also advising you that maybe Frank could be more than a friend.”

“Mikey, you’ve got to understand that with this, with who I am, I can never really have a relationship,” Gerard says.

“What makes you think that?”

“Mikey, who could fall for someone who changes their fucking gender every other day? That’s a lot of baggage, and no one can really be expected to help me carry it. Who could ever like me, Mikes? Straight people can’t fall for me, gay people can’t fall for me. I’m like an oscillating fan. One minute I’ll be pointing in the right direction, but the next, I’m somewhere else entirely.”

“Because gay and straight are the only possible sexualities,” Mikey says derisively.

“Well no, but it’s weird. What would anyone even call me? Their ‘boyfriend sometimes girlfriend’? I don’t make a lot of sense.”

“Significant other.”

“You’re dodging my point Mikey. Sure I like Frank, but it’s really hard to fathom anyone liking me, because honestly it’s like trying to hold onto wet soap while it’s slipping out of your hands. It just keeps falling, and that’s me. I’m a bar of soap that no one can really get a grasp on,” Gerard says.

“You are not a bar of soap. I’ll say what I think, because, yes, on one hand you are right. It’s hard to see some people accepting it on the level you’re thinking of. People may accept you as who you are, but they might draw the line at friendship, because they don’t accept it _that_ much. That is a possibility. That’s unfortunate, but that’s the world we live in. We live in a world where it’s understandable to say you believe in transgender, but you would never date a transgender individual, and that is applicable to you too.

“So yes, that’s possible, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t some people, a lot of people, probably, out there who wouldn’t mind it. There are people who are both accepting of who you are, as well as feasibly capable of being attracted to you. It’s not everyone, true, and you are going to have a harder time finding someone than a lot of other people do, but it’s not impossible. You need someone extraordinary, and you _deserve_ someone extraordinary as well,” Mikey concludes.

“But all odds are stacked against me. When have you ever heard a story of someone falling in love with a genderfluid person? There’s no fairytales about that, no legends, no movies, no stories. It’s Robin and Marian. It’s Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. It’s Willow and Tara. You can’t peg me down, Mikes, so why would anyone want to try?”

“The last time I checked, you don’t fall in love with a gender, Gerard. You fall in love with a personality, and their gender is really just an afterthought.”

“But you sort people out by genders don’t you. ‘Here’s a list of my viable partners, based on what they’ve got in their pants,’” Gerard answers.

“Some people may think like that,” Mikey says, “but not everyone.”

“It really doesn’t matter,” Gerard answers. “I don’t think I want to have that right now. I don’t want to have a relationship.”

“I’m not going to fight you on this one. I’ve already won one battle, the war you have to fight yourself.”

~*~*~*~

“Hey Mikes, just out of curiosity, do you think Gerard would ever be interested in dating someone who’s just one gender or something?” Frank asks.

Mikey groans, because fuck, he knew this was coming, “what do you mean?”

“Like would Gee date a cisgender guy or girl?”

“It’s a possibility, I think Gerard would be very nervous about it though, because the thought would cross their mind that anyone who Gee would want to date, might get tired of having a relationship with someone like them.”

“But if you truly love someone it shouldn’t matter what gender they are,” Frank replies.

“That’s precisely what I said! Gerard is the most self-deprecating individual you will ever meet, Frank, and you’re going to have to get used to that.”

“Why though? Gerard is really, like, fantastic.”

“Oh god, you like Gerard,” Mikey says, his head falling to his pillow out of desperation. He knew that this was a distinct possibility, and now Gerard is adamant that they don’t want a relationship, but here Frank is with a crush on him. 

Mikey is now the guy that’s stuck in the middle of it, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. He just wants Gerard to be happy, and he really wouldn’t _choose_ for Frank to like Gee if he had a choice, but it’s not like he’s going to object to it. Frank’s not a bad person, Gerard could do worse, but now Frank’s going to feel insulted because Gerard won’t want anything like that.

Frank looks guilty, “Is that a bad thing? You’re Gee’s brother, it’s a strange thing to talk about with you, but under the circumstances...”

“No of course it’s not a bad thing, but Gerard is such a handful. Gee really wouldn’t be, but the way that Gerard behaves about the way they are can be pretty sick. Treating it like it’s a disease sometimes, and it’s just wretched. No one should see themselves like that, but that’s who Gerard is.”

“But-”

“I interfere enough in Gerard’s life, I’m going to leave the love life part out of my job description. I don’t have anything against you liking Gerard, but you’re going to have to handle that on your own,” Mikey replies.

“Well I was going to, but I just wanted to know if you thought I had a chance.”

Mikey makes a noise like a really pissed off goose, and Frank decides to drop the subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Telepathic hugs for anyone who comments.


	13. Gerard Totally Doesn't Like Frank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say other than Gerard totally doesn't like Frank.

“Gerard?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been staring at the paper without doing anything for twenty minutes,” Frank replies, “are you sure you’re in the right mindset to do anything?”

“I’m not sure I’m in the right mindset, no,” He answers affirmatively.

“Well do you want to do something else?” 

“I don’t know. I feel like I want to do something, but I also feel like going to sleep. Do you know what I mean?”

“It’s eleven in the morning,” Frank replies.

“Well maybe not sleep then. A nap?”

“Do you wanna go to your dorm then?”

“No, because I don’t think I want to actually go to sleep or nap or whatever. I just feel like doing nothing, and that was the closest I could get to describing the emotion without going into far too much detail, as I just have now,” Gerard states.

“I don’t think that was too much detail,” Frank shrugs, “you lost me half way through though.”

“Oh sorry.”

“I’m only joking,” Frank says, “what do you want to do that doesn’t entail staring at one spot for long periods of time?”

“I guess that kind of terminates the idea of a movie,” Gerard says.

“Well there’s a difference between staring at a piece of paper for several minutes and watching a movie, because one of them has moving frames.”

“Are you saying that this piece of paper doesn’t have any moving frames?” Gerard asks holding up the sheet of clean paper.

“That is precisely what I’m saying,” Frank nods.

“Valid point,” Gerard shrugs.

“C’mere,” Frank says, and Gerard’s eyebrows crease in confusion. “Well do you see a fucking TV in this room? I can’t afford to actually see a movie, at, like, a theater. At least not through entirely legal means.”

“Okay?”

“So do you want to watch something or are you content at staring at that paper for another several hours?”

“No, I’m good,” Gerard answers, and stands up.

Frank is sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall, with his legs across the width of the bed. Gerard awkwardly sits across likewise parallel to Frank. He leaves a foot between them, and Frank makes a huffing noise.

“I can’t balance a fucking computer between us if you want to be that far way. Either get closer or cross your legs,” Frank says, and Gerard turns a reddish color. It suits him, actually.

Frank is a cheeky bugger, that’s true, but Gerard doesn’t necessarily mind it when he asks him to scoot closer.

“What do you want to watch?” Frank asks, when Gerard is only a few inches away. He likes the way that Gerard smells. He smells kind of herby, like rosemary. It’s different, but he likes it. It’s a fairly gender neutral smell which doesn’t exactly surprise Frank.

“It’s your computer,” Gerard replies.

“Netflix it is,” Frank responds. Frank doesn’t actually have a Netflix account. Not one that’s his own at least. The guys in the room next door have Netflix and they let Frank piggyback their password when they’re not using two devices. All of this because Frank is broke. He gets excited over quarters on the sidewalk.

~*~*~*~

Mikey enters the room roughly two hours later to find Gerard still on Frank’s bed, only with an unconscious Frank on his shoulder. Frank’s eyes are closed with his head perched on Gerard’s arm like a pillow.

“Is he asleep?” Mikey asks.

“He is,” Gerard replies. 

“Ew.”

“I think he’s kind of cute.”

“Well that’s because you don’t have to hear him snore in the middle of the night,” Mikey replies.

“But he hasn’t snored at all,” Gerard says, defensively.

“How long has he been asleep?”

“About an hour,” Gerard answers looking at him from the corner of his eyes. He does look quite content and peaceful when he’s asleep. Gerard wouldn’t exactly mind seeing that every morning.

“How come you haven’t moved?”

“Well he’s sleeping on my shoulder isn’t he? I don’t want to wake him up!”

“No of course not, because that’s only what a logical person would do,” Mikey replies, “then again you think he’s cute so your logic is obviously a bit muffled.”

“But I-” Gerard starts and interrupts himself, “I don’t want to disturb him, he’s adorable.”

“And you _don’t_ like him,” Mikey rolls his eyes, and falls onto his own bed across the room from Franks.

“Shh, he’s asleep but he could hear you!” Gerard hisses.

“But you do,” Mikey says, and it’s not a question.

“Maybe.”

“Obviously. You let the guy fall asleep on your shoulder, and then didn’t move. If that’s not a sign that you like him that I don’t know what is,” Mikey says.

“Maybe it’s just the sign that I’m a good human being.”

“Well that’s definitely not what it is,” Mikey snorts, and Gerard makes a face at him. Mikey doesn’t seem to be all that offended by it, and just shrugs as if to say ‘I am _right_.’

“Just do whatever it is you came here to do,” Gerard says.

“What will you do if you have to piss?” Mikey asks.

“How long do you think the boy can sleep? It’s not like he’ll be there forever!”

“I’m just saying,” Mikey answers.

“Well don’t just say, go do your shit,” Gerard says.

“You’re cranky today.”

“Fuck off,” Gerard replies.

Frank actually does wake up not long after Mikey entered the room. He’s blinking his eyes open about ten minutes later.

“Did I fall asleep?” Are his first words.

“Yes,” Mikey says, and Frank jumps a little when he sees Mikey.

“Sorry, Gerard.”

“No, it’s fine,” Gerard replies.

Mikey has to hold himself back from saying, ‘Gerard was super into it.’

Gerard obviously isn’t going to own up to it, but Mikey is pretty sure that Frank’s feelings aren’t one way. Gerard had nearly admitted it the other day, but still managed to avoid answering the question. Mikey understands partially where Gerard’s coming from, obviously he does, but at the same time, he really believes that someone liking Gerard for the zany and sporadic person they are, would be a good thing. Frank is a good candidate because Mikey doesn’t need to do any interfering to get him to like Gerard. He’s already infatuated with Gerard, so all he needs is to know that Gee is interested. Getting Gerard to show interest is the hard part though. It’s there, it’s definitely there, it just needs some excavating.

“I’ll move,” Frank says, lifting his head and then rigidly putting a few inches of space between him and Gerard. Gerard doesn’t like the way that his shoulder feels so cold without Frank there. It makes all of him kind of feel empty, and he misses it.

“I’ll uh... should I go?” Gerard asks.

“Yes,” Mikey says.

At the same time that Mikey says that though, Frank says, “no you can stay.”

“I’ll go,” Gerard says.

“You don’t have to,” Frank clarifies.

“But you’re face really repulses me so I would hope that you do,” Mikey says.

“You’re awful, Mikes,” Frank shakes his head.

“No, I am just being a loving brother,” Mikey says.

“Frank, would you freeze his toothbrush on my behalf?” Gerard asks.

“No!” Mikey shouts, “You can’t just tell him to do that with me right here. No one touch my fucking toothbrush!”

“Will do, see you later, Gerard,” Frank says. Gerard smiles at him one more time before he leaves the room.

“You had better keep your filthy mitts off my dental appliances,” Mikey says.

“Why the hell did you tell him to go? I wanted Gerard to stay!” Frank says.

“Oh I’m sorry did you need a wingman to hit on my sibling?”

“You make it sound really creepy when you say it like that,” Frank says.

“You walked into that one yourself by hitting on Gerard,” Mikey answers.

“I was not hitting on Gerard!”

Mikey rolls his eyes, “how the fuck do you define hitting on someone? I don’t think I even want to know actually.”

“I’m just a naturally flirtatious person.”

“You’re just a naturally _perverted_ person,” Mikey says.

“I don’t see why the two can’t coincide.” 

“You are so hopeless. Do you think you’re just going to passively flirt with Gerard or am I going to watch you swooning over Gee for the rest of the year?” Mikey asks.

“The latter sounds easier,” Frank admits.

Mikey doesn’t respond, but rolls his eyes again, because that’s his favorite thing to do with his spare time. Mikey is usually either rolling his eyes, worrying about Gerard, babysitting Frank or a combination of all three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter isn't exactly a bed of roses.


	14. Conspiracy Theories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey shares his theories on such conspiracies as the Kennedy Assassination, as well as the death of Paul McCartney. Also there's some, like, unsettling stuff.

Frank is sitting on his bed, with his head falling off the side, trying to rationalize the way the room looks upside down. He does things like that a lot. He’s found it quite difficult to understand much of anything from this particular direction. The posters on the wall are all gibberish, and his name doesn’t sound like a word anymore.

“Frank,” he tries saying his own name, but it just doesn’t sound real. He’s starting to get a little dizzy, but he’s too lazy to pull himself up. He decides that the walls look much beiger when looked upon from this perspective, but that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.

The door slams and Mikey enters, walking on the ceiling, or at least Frank thinks. He’s pretty baffled by how good Mikey is at acrobatics.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mikey asks.

“What am I doing? How did you get on the ceiling?”

“You’re such an idiot,” Mikey rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t answer my question, circus boy,” Frank says.

Mikey walks over to Frank, reaches behind his neck, and grabs the hood of his sweatshirt. He then pulls Frank’s head to the left, and lets it fall when it’s lying completely on his bed. Frank blinks a few times, but he doesn’t really resist.

“That makes so much more sense,” Frank says, dazedly.

“Are you high?”

“No, just sleep deprived,” Frank answers, turning himself around and trying to sit up. His eyes blur over with a head rush, but he grabs his ears and steadies himself. His head feels like it weighs a ton, after having been lolling off the bed like that.

“Sometimes I don’t understand you,” Mikey says, sitting down at his desk with his back turned to Frank.

“Sometimes? Are you saying there’s times when you _do_ understand me? I’ve got to change my game plan.”

“Alright, it’s most of the time, but I was trying to be polite,” Mikey says.

“You and polite are as familiar with each other as Madonna and toothpaste.” 

“I... that’s the weirdest analogy I think I’ve ever heard,” Mikey replies.

“Good,” Frank replies, “now I have a question.”

“Is the question, ‘why are you such an idiot’?”

“No, but now that you bring it up, I’d like an answer. Why _are_ you such an idiot, Mikes?”

“What? No, I meant to insult you, but it backfired,” Mikey says.

“This is why you never get into an argument with an English major or a lawyer,” Frank replies proudly.

“Frank, you are neither of those things.”

“I could be.”

“But you’re not.”

“But I could be,” Frank replies.

“But you’re not,” Mikey answers, “we could do this all day.”

“You’re right. I’m just saying that I could be, I never said I was. Anyway my question is, where’s Gerard?” Frank asks.

“What do you mean, where’s Gerard?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Frank answers, “I’m looking for a spectacled man in red and white pinstripes named Waldo, minus the name Waldo, the spectacles, the red and white pinstripes and the assignment of the classification of ‘man.’”

“That was a long way to go for such an undeservedly weak reference on your part,” Mikey says, spinning around in his chair to give Frank a judgmental look. His judgmental look doesn’t really come across very much because it looks just like his other look for amused. His amused look is the exact same as his frustrated look too. That’s the same as his bored look.

Essentially Mikey is just looking at Frank.

“By the time I’d started it though, it was too late to give in, so I had to roll with it,” Frank says with a shrug, “but where’s Gerard?”

“I don’t know what you mean, to be honest,” Mikey says.

“Have you seen him all week? I haven’t seen him since we binge watched Netflix.”

“Maybe he, you know, thought it was weird that a guy he barely knows fell asleep on him,” Mikey says.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m fucking adorable when I’m sleeping, so that can’t be it.”

“And you’re oh-so-modest as well.”

Frank snorts, “When did I ever pretend to be anything but? I just haven’t seen Gerard in like seven days, and it’s strange.”

“Come to think of it, neither have I. Gee’s probably just got a lot of course work to do, it’s not that big a deal.”

“As an isolated incident, no, but as a variable on a larger scale, yes. Gerard hides away who they are when it doesn’t conform to the strictest of societies bigoted norms, so don’t you think the fact that we haven’t seen Gerard as neither male nor female in nearly a week means something? I’d say that’s probably a regression back into the fear of being alienated.”

Mikey purses his lips and thinks for a second, “you’re right, that’s probably not a good thing.”

“Of course I’m right,” Frank says, “I’m always right.”

“Except about bigfoot,” Mikey retorts.

“He’s out there Mikey, you just haven’t seen him yet! There’s no way to prove that either of us are correct, so drop it before we get into another one of those debates.”

Mikey sees the pride in Frank’s face, and he can’t help himself, “Oswald acted alone, Frank!”

“We both know there were multiple shooters, you fucking fish stick!” Frank says warningly.

“Who disses a guy by calling him a fish stick?” Mikey says, “And I think I know a little more about the Kennedy Assassination than you.”

“Oh right, because you’re such an expert on assassination.”

“Enough to realize that-” Mikey stops himself, “We’re going to agree to disagree.”

“Because we both know that you’re wrong,” Frank says.

“Frank,” Mikey says, narrowing his eyes.

“Right sorry. But we can agree that Paul McCartney isn’t dead?” Frank says.

“We can agree on that one,” Mikey says.

“Okay good. Enough of the conspiracy theories, where is Gerard?”

“I could call?” Mikey suggests.

“Yeah do that,” Frank replies, and Mikey nods.

A minute later Mikey puts his phone down, “no answer.”

Frank’s eyebrows draw together, because that doesn’t sound good. Assuming that Gerard is near their phone is a good assumption. If it’s an all-consuming study bender than that would imply that Gee’s phone is still near them.

“Should I go check on Gerard?” Frank asks.

“Is that an excuse to get them alone?” Mikey asks, raising an eyebrow to Frank. Obviously he’s a touch less concerned than Frank is.

“Can’t a guy be worried about his friend without having an ulterior motive?” Frank exasperates, raising his hands questioningly.

“Well maybe a sane person, but not a horny bastard like you, Frank,” Mikey replies.

“Since when have I ever displayed horny bastard tendencies? My hormones are perfectly fine, thanks for asking.”

“I believe that’s what the kids these days call ‘TMI.’”

“You realize that that broad group generalization includes yourself as well,” Frank says.

“Me? No I’m a celestial being, not bound by your human stereotypes.”

“Right,” Frank rolls his eyes, “I’m going to see you later, Mikes. You might want to go visit the nurse. Or a psychiatric hospital.”

Mikey sticks his tongue out at Frank before the door closes.

Frank’s feet have already found the way to Gerard’s room familiar. It’s not like he was trying to memorize it, but he did. He doesn’t like having to go out into the cold, but it’s not that bad. The time, according to Frank’s phone, is nearly eight. 

They didn’t see Gerard get dinner any of the last few days including today, which Frank finds disconcerting. It’s not like you can starve if you don’t go to dinner, because even Frank has a giant box of goldfish in his desk, but it’s still a little strange.

All the doors in the hall where Gerard live have some variety of decoration on them. All of them have white boards or drawings held up with scotch tape. Most of them say names in varying different styles. Most dorms on campus have such décor, including the ones near Frank’s, but Gerard’s door stands out, because there’s simply nothing. It’s blank, and lonely looking in the corridor.

Frank knocks on the door, and immediately hears someone behind it. It’s kind of a strange sound like thumping, and also rustling.

“Gee?” Frank asks.

“Would you, uh, go away?” Gerard asks, and the voice is not pleasant or upbeat sounding.

“Are you okay?” Frank asks, “I haven’t seen you in a week. Neither has Mikey.”

“Yeah, by design,” Gerard replies, and there’s more moving around, and then something that sounds like scratching.

“Gerard?”

“Please just go away.”

“I just want to know what’s up,” Frank says.

There’s a huff, some stomping, and then the door in front of him is being pulled open.

Gerard answers, pulling on a sweatshirt when the door opens in front of Frank. Gee’s hair is messy, and all over the place. Gerard has a discouraged look in their eyebrows, but that’s really not what stands out.

It’s the purple, and in spots an off-green coloring around Gerard’s right eye. The eyelid looks off balance, and there’s a greedy expanse of red in the white part of Gerard’s eye. It’s pretty unsettling to be honest.

“Gerard, you have a black eye,” Frank says, staring aghast at the eye. It’s not like he’s never seen a shiner before, but he’s never seen someone so attractive with one. 

Gerard squeals, and brings a hand to their face. Gerard then proceeds to try to brush hair over the purple bruise, but it hides nothing. The discoloration is still visible through the thickets of dark hair.

For some reason there’s a strong smell of something burning coming from the room, but it doesn’t smell like cigarettes or any normal burning. It’s just a weird smell. Not like a candle, and also not like a bonfire or anything else. Just a smoky smell.

“Why are you here?”

Frank frowns, “Why do you have a black eye?”

“It’s nothing. Doorknob.”

“How come I don’t believe that?”

“Just leave me be,” Gerard says, and then the door is slamming in Frank’s face. He doesn’t have time to say anything more, before he’s just staring at the closed door in front of him. Frank’s both confused and angry.

“Gerard!”

“I’m not opening the door so you might as well go away,” comes the voice on the other side of the door.

“But, can you tell me why you have a black eye?”

“I just did,” Gerard says.

“Fine. If that’s what you’re going with, fine. Why haven’t I seen you all week?”

“No one’s seen me all week, Frank. You aren’t a special snowflake.”

“Well, _why_?” Frank asks, feeling irritated.

Gerard doesn’t answer. Frank thinks that he’s being given the silent treatment for a few seconds until there’s more shuffling.

Gerard slips a paper under the door, and Frank’s confused by the action for a moment. When it becomes clear that he’s not going to be given any answer other than that, Frank crouches down and picks the sheet up.

‘Traditional Values for True Christians.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it's more of a prelude into unsettling stuff.


	15. Doesn't Have To Leave A Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey, rightly, gets pissed the fuck off with Gee.

“Mikey, I think something’s really wrong with Gerard,” Frank says breathlessly. He’d run back the entire way from Gerard’s room, and his lungs are burning. It’s both cold and slippery out, so he’s pretty impressed that he didn’t slip or something. It seemed important to get back to Mikey though. He knows way more about Gerard.

“What?” Mikey asks looking up, “why? What’s wrong?”

“Gerard saw the fucking handout thing, for the Christian thing. Gerard had this black eye, it was awful, Mikes. I don’t know who gave Gee the black eye, and Gee wouldn’t tell me!” 

“Whoa whoa, wait,” Mikey says holding his hands up, “Gerard has a black eye?”

“Yes! I just told you that. I don’t know where it came from, but it was there!” Frank says, clutching the stitch in his side.

“Tell me exactly, and I mean exactly what happened. Don’t leave out any small details,” Mikey says.

“What? Ugh, fine. I went to the dorm, knocked on the door, and Gerard told me to go away, but wouldn’t open the door. There was like moving around and shit, then Gerard came to the door, and there was this black eye staring me right in the face.”

Mikey nods, “okay, and I don’t mean this in a creepy sense at all, but what was Gee wearing. Was it girly clothes or more guy-like?”

“I guess... I mean I’d say more guyish.”

“This may sound weird but was there a distinct... um, sort of I guess, a burning smell?”

“What? Why would that matter?” Frank asks.

“It just does to me, okay? I know how to deal with Gerard, I know what happens when things get to be too much,” Mikey replies.

“What do you mean? What happens?”

Mikey stands up, and grabs a jacket, pulling it on, while he tries to organize his thoughts, “Just answer please. Burning smell or not?”

Frank’s eyebrows draw together, as he watches Mikey and he says, “Yes, so?”

“Fuck,” Mikey says, and then he starts swearing to himself in a long string.

“What? What!”

“Stay here, I’ll be back,” Mikey says, “but fuck... I am going to kill Gerard.”

“Why? What’d he do?”

“I’ll see you later,” Mikey says shortly, and then the door is slamming shut behind him. Frank is left standing in the middle of the room. He can’t exactly follow behind, because it’d piss of the already really pissed off Mikey. Frank doesn’t have a death wish, thank you very much.

Mikey stomps to Gerard’s room. No word works better than stomps, because he looks angry even with every step. He’s a lanky kid, but in this state, just about anyone would let him walk past, because he looks like he’s out for blood.

He enters the dorm, walks over to the hall, and then finds Gerard’s door. Mikey takes a deep breath before rapping his knuckles against the door.

“Gee, you open this fucking door right now, or so help me god, I will rip both your arms out of their sockets,” Mikey says slamming his fists against the door.

“No,” Gerard answers resolutely.

“Do you think for one second that I won’t punch the fucking door down, because you underestimate me?”

“Please go away.”

“I’m going to kill you one way or another,” Mikey states.

“Then why would I open the door to let you in?”

“The brawd who lives there is weird, bro. It ain’t worth it,” a guy says from behind Mikey and he turns, ready to kill a bitch.

“Do you really want to test me, man, because I will mess you the fuck up. I am not even sort of kidding,” Mikey warns him, and the guy scampers off. Mikey has the scariest angry face in the world, especially to those who spend a lot of time with him, because his angry face is actually _different_ than his other faces.

“Gerard. Door,” Mikey says simply.

It takes a few moments but the door opens, and Mikey gives Gerard the most severe ‘you’re in trouble’ look that has ever graced this earth.

“What the fuck were you fucking thinking?”

“Can you wait until I close the door?” Gerard asks, cringing at Mikey’s yelling.

“Alright,” he waits until the door makes a clicking noise and then repeats, “What the fuck were you fucking thinking?”

“I didn’t do anything, Mikes!”

“No? Really? Burning smell? So what did Frank smell, was someone having a campfire in here or something?”

“Okay fine,” Gerard says, “I’ll own up to _wanting_ to do something, but Frank, he... I don’t know. He like interrupted me, and then I started rethinking things. It sort of made me feel bad thinking about how what Frank would think about me if he knew.”

“Gerard, I can’t believe you. You know I can’t believe you,” Mikey says solemnly. “I want to believe you, because I don’t want you to ever hurt yourself again, but I just can’t believe that you didn’t.”

“I didn’t, I swear! I thought of how you would react, like you are right now and it didn’t seem like the right thing to do. It was worse thinking about Frank’s reaction.”

“You’re damn right it isn’t the right thing to do,” Mikey says, “because if you’re lying to me, I will eviscerate you.”

“That sounds quite painful,” Gerard responds.

“Damn right,” Mikey says, “but you didn’t?”

“I didn’t. Three years is a long time, Mikey. It’s too long to throw down a drain,” Gerard replies, making the most sincere face possible.

“But there’s a lighter in here, at least. There has to be,” Mikey says, deciding that Gerard’s telling the truth, “and you’re going to give it to me.”

“Yeah alright,” Gerard replies, turning around and picking up a small lighter from on the bookshelf in the corner of the room. “Happy now?”

“No, not really,” Mikey says, “you threw up such a fuss, and now this fucking Christian club has thrown you back a million steps. I don’t want to see you tear yourself up again. I don’t want to see you hurt yourself again.”

“But I didn’t!”

“But you almost did,” Mikey retorts.

“It’s fine though.”

“It’s not fine, I’m not anymore happy about this then you are.”

“They don’t want me here, Mikes,” Gerard says, “that hurts, not being accepted. I mean really, who does?”

“I do, and I’m sure Frank does.”

“Two people. Woohoo, look at me. Two whole motherfucking people who care about me.”

“It would be more if you let people in, but you don’t. You sit in your room feeling sorry about yourself, crying over the fact that you have no friends, but you don’t get up and go make more,” Mikey says.

“Are we going to do this again?” Gerard groans.

“Well we are if you keep doing this self-loathing thing again. I told you already, Gerard. It doesn’t have to leave a scar to count.”

“But people only _care_ if you leave a mark,” Gerard says softly. Gerard turns and sits down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m not going to say that’s untrue, but that’s only most people. I care when you’re sad, Gee. I don’t need to see the physical part to believe that it’s there,” Mikey answers.

“What did I do? What did I do to deserve this shit? I don’t know why I’m the target of all this stupid stuff. I don’t know what I did,” Gerard whimpers.

“You didn’t do anything, and it’s pretty damn awful that people are blaming you for this,” Mikey says, “because I know you didn’t choose this. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Why do they hate me though, Mikes?”

“’They’ would be this club? That who gave you the shiner?”

“Some big bulky guy. I saw that flyer thing, and I... I mean I tore the thing down,” Gerard says, “because it offended me, as it should.”

“I did that too, I hoped you wouldn’t find one of those flyers. I really tried to get rid of them.”

“Apparently people kept tearing them up, so there was a guy watching to make sure no one did that. I mean, I didn’t see him or anything, he was standing in the corner. Apparently people remembered me even after I left for a few months,” Gerard explains, “remembered the weirdo cross-dresser.”

Mikey rolls his eyes at the term, because there’s nothing he can do to put that word back into Gerard’s mouth, “So he hit you because of... because of who you are?”

“I think so. I didn’t stay too long to ask,” Gerard shrugs. “I didn’t do anything to him though. I just took down a flyer. That’s all.”

“I know, Gerard. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry that I’m all fucked up, or sorry that the guy punched me?”

“I’m not going to go through the thing where you call yourself messed up again, Gerard. If you try that, I will give you a matching bruise on your left eye, got it?”

“Right, sorry,” Gerard waves the apology mindlessly.

“First thing tomorrow, I’m going to talk to someone in charge about this,” Mikey says, “technically, they can do whatever the hell they want, freedom of religion and all, but we might be able to talk the school into banning them advertising it. We can try making it forbidden to put up any more flyers.”

Gerard shrugs, “it’s worth a shot, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's not my favorite thing to talk about, and it's really not something I like adding to my stories, but I just believed that it probably happened. Like, given the situation Gee is in, it made a lot of sense, so I guess that's my defense. It's a sad reality, but a reality all the same.


	16. The Dangers of Never Growing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Gerard is lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, and trying not to cry in front of Frank. Frank is trying to keep himself looking sympathetic while also trying not to look like he’s really attracted to Gerard, because now probably wouldn’t be the best time to come onto them. Frank’s not sure there will ever be a right time, but he’s fairly sure that Gerard at least likes his company, and that’s good enough for now. Maybe there will be a right time in the future, but now isn’t it.

“I wish I were normal,” Gerard says.

“What?”

“I wish I wasn’t like this,” Gerard repeats, “like, I wish I was just a guy. Then none of the crap that’s happened to me would’ve ever happened. I want to just be like everyone else, and not have to worry about being spit on based on what I am.”

“But then you wouldn’t be you,” Frank says, “and I like you.”

“But wouldn’t it be nice if I didn’t have to hide away in here. If I could just be a regular person who just goes out on any given day and attends class. Not have to worry about being seen in makeup, because I wouldn’t have to wear it, because I wouldn’t feel like a chick. I don’t want to be what I am, because it makes my life infinitely harder. So how come I have to be like this?”

“You’re special. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I’m not special, I’m a mess,” Gerard replies.

“Well I’m not going to disagree with you there, I’m not sure where the floor even is in here,” Frank says looking at the ground, “it’s like a really intense game of the ‘floor is made of lava’ in here. You’re a mess, but you’re also special. You’re a special mess.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d ever want to be. I want to just be the loner boy. I’m not though, I’m the loner ‘what the fuck is it.’”

“You’re not an it, Gee. You’re a really cool, fantastic person. It doesn’t matter that other people see that, it only matters if the people you care about see that. You are fantastic, and Mikey sees that. His opinion is the one that matters not some douche with a crucifix on his door.”

Gerard shrugs, “I care about your opinion too.”

“Well I think you’re great,” Frank says.

“But what would you say about me if I weren’t in the room?”

Frank sighs, “I’d say that I know this really bitchin’ person named Gerard, who is an amazing artist, funny, sweet, talented and modest. I’d also say that Gerard is better than people realize, and there’s no person in the world I’d rather be friends with.”

Gerard blushes and lifts up off the bed to look at Frank skeptically. Frank’s spinning awkwardly in Gerard’s desk chair, which is a little too tall for him. He isn’t going to say anything about it, but his feet only barely touch the ground which is kind of demeaning.

“You wouldn’t say that,” Gerard says, brushing Frank’s words off.

“Yeah, I really would,” Frank replies, “I might add that you’re far too self-conscious considering how amazing you are.”

He starts to worry that he’s getting too cheesy, but really, it astounds Frank that anyone could be unable to see how fantastic they are. It’s so unfeasible that someone as great as Gerard can’t even see it. It literally blows his mind. Frank’s not perfect, but he knows that he is nowhere near as astonishing as Gerard.

“I don’t, I mean, I don’t have all the words in the world. I only have a few that I’ve picked up along my life, and they’re not very special. There’s a lot of words though, Gerard. It’s strange that of the words I do know, I haven’t been able to find one that even begins to describe you. I can only brush off the top of your complexity, and it’s so... I don’t know, agonizing, to have it at the tip of my tongue but come up short. You are though. You’re so great, and lovely, and I hate that I can’t enunciate to you how much I like being around you. I mean, I’ve never felt so compelled to be near someone in my entire life. It’s like I always crave being near you, and then it kills me that you don’t see that I do really care about you. A lot of people do, and so many more would love to hang out with you if you let them in. I will say, I do have the words for this, at least to say that you are doing the world a great disservice by hiding away.”

Gerard is silent for a few seconds, and Frank watches Gee’s feet swing over the side of the bed carelessly. There seems to be no pace or rhythm, the feet just swing and mesmerize Frank’s eyes dazedly.

“I think you need to realize that I appreciate it. I appreciate all your words, but you can say all the most beautiful words in the world, and string them out at me, but they don’t cure anything. No one knows what it’s like having to live in my head, and I would never wish that burden on a soul anyway,” Gerard says.

“But still, if you could see what I see,” Frank says, trying to somehow silently communicate his message to Gerard, “you’d just never have to doubt yourself again.”

“But if _you_ saw what I see, than you’d never look my way again,” Gerard replies.

“I’m not critical of every little flaw though. I think you’re a good person Gee. I think you deserve to be told how great you are, because no amount of times you hear it will ever do you justice.”

“I am though. When I look in the mirror I see all this shit. I’m not a boy and I’m not a girl, I’m just this messed up in-between. I’m not pretty, or handsome, and when I wear what I want people remind me just how stupid I look. I’m the guy in a dress or I’m the girly looking boy who makes an ugly cross-dresser.”

Frank huffs, and looks over at Gerard who’s resigned to lying on the bed again. Frank looks over at Gerard, and walks over to the bed.

He falls down to lie parallel to Gerard, “you need to shut up with that vulgarity.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re being an asshole, but what’s strange is that you’re not insulting someone who deserves to be insulted. You’re calling out someone who’s better than almost anyone. Hell, you’re so unique and memorable, something that so few people are these days, but you are. You really are, and I don’t know how long I can listen to you putting yourself down.”

Gerard’s head makes a strange motion that looks like a shake of the head, and Frank rolls his eyes.

Frank takes a deep breath and says, “When I was younger, much younger than I am today, I was really into Peter Pan. Like, I kind of thought Peter Pan was the coolest guy in the world. All I’d ever really seen was the Disney movie, and when you’re young, you have trouble really considering things analytically. It’s hard to see the real message in a piece. So I thought it was the story about a boy who didn’t want to grow up, and I thought that the message was that being a child is the best thing in the world. Now I’m older, and I know better. It’s not about the positive of being a boy forever, it’s about the dangers of it. You know, looking back on it, after reading the book, I see that Peter isn’t this happy-go-lucky little kid. He’s messed up, and he’s let his naiveté essentially kill him. Childhood wonder is an astounding thing, but you can’t let it rule your life. You have to keep it there in small dosages so that you never lose yourself, but we have to grow up so that we have a place in this world. I know that, as we grow up, we start to understand things we didn’t when we were younger. I’ve grown up now though, and I miss it sometimes. I feel like I want to go back and relive it all, but that’s not a realistic dream. Nowadays, I don’t really feel like I’ve grown up any, but I see it when I remember that I’m afraid of being no one. I’m afraid that I’m not even a dot in the universe.”

“What’s your point?” Gerard asks.

Frank sighs, “My point is that I’m afraid that I don’t matter, but then I look at you, and I know _you_ matter. I know that the world would be infinitely worse off if it lost you. That realization kind of soothes me though, because I don’t see my own purpose. I don’t know why I’m here, or how long I’m going to be here, but I look at you and I can’t believe that the world made such a flawless human, so I guess, it just gives me hope. You don’t see how great you are, and it makes me hope that maybe I do have a purpose, it’s just not one that I can see. Maybe that’s what the problem is with our society. Maybe we all have a purpose, and maybe we all really matter, but we’re all incapable of seeing it for ourselves. So maybe our purpose is to be there to illuminate someone else’s life.”

“I think that you’re the most amazing human I’ve ever met, Frank. I may not say it, and I may not be able to get it across that I like you, but I do,” Gerard whispers.

Frank grins and turns his head to look at Gerard, who’s still staring at the ceiling, “and my tie in to Peter Pan is that I know I have to grow up. I’ll never survive if I don’t let myself get older. When I’m with you I feel young, and mature at the same time. I feel like a perfect blend of both, but it’s only when I’m with you that I feel that way. Like, with you, I’m a little kid who sees shapes in the clouds, and I’m also wise enough to make it through this fucking huge tunnel that I’ve been stuck in for so long.”

“We’re all in a tunnel waiting to get out, but I think it’s scary to realize that we don’t know what’s on the other side,” Gerard says. “Even if it’s the smallest amount, Frank, you make my life better. Easier. I would hate to lose you more than I could ever tell you, so please don’t walk away from me.”

Gerard turns their head finally to look at Frank, fear in the hazel eyes.

“I’m not going to walk away from you,” Frank says looking directly into the piercing eyes staring back at him.

“Good. Because I think you could be good for me,” Gerard says, “and I could really use someone like you with what’s going on. You don’t _have_ to be there for me. Like, with Mikey, don’t get me wrong, he’s the best brother in the fucking world, and he could’ve easily tossed me aside when I came out, if that’s even the proper term, but you didn’t. You barely knew me and you didn’t walk away, and that means a lot.”

Frank unconsciously licks his lips looking at Gerard, and Gerard can’t help but notice. The thoughts running through Gerard’s mind don’t make sense. Gerard is only inches from Frank’s face, and fuck does he want to kiss Gerard so much.

Frank doesn’t even get a chance to do anything before it’s happening. He’s not sure if he’s dreaming or if he’s totally imagining it, because he just sees Gerard in front of him, closer than he’d have thought possible. Gerard is right there though, eyes half-lidded, and Frank is acutely aware of the fact that his lips are touching Gerard’s.

Yeah, okay, so Frank is in heaven. Like, he’s pretty sure he’s just died of some freak accident and this is heaven. His eyes close when he can’t keep them open any longer, and then it’s just Gerard and him. He can’t feel the bed underneath him, nor his toes, but he can feel Gerard, and he can feel the blush soaring through his cheeks, but that’s about it.

Gerard’s just kind of lost. There’s no way to figure out what made Gerard lean in, because it just sort of happened. It felt right almost.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” Gerard says, pulling away and putting their hands up to cover the chalk white they’d just turned.

“What?” Frank asks, trying to get his thoughts in order.

“I shouldn’t... I’m sorry,” Gerard squeaks.

“Oh god,” Frank responds nervously, “no, fuck. No! I mean, like, don’t apologize for kissing me. That’s fine. I’m fine.”

“What?” Gerard asks, because for some reason Gerard had convinced themself that Frank was upset.

Frank is flustered to say the least, and he has trouble trying to understand what’s going on. Gerard’s pulled up into a sitting position, face hidden, and back stiff. Frank pulls himself up to sit in front of Gerard, tucking one leg underneath him.

“Gerard, don’t apologize! I was into it,” Frank says bluntly. He doesn’t want to send out mixed signals.

“Wait,” Gerard asks, peaking between the fingers, “so I wasn’t out of line?”

“I... is it not completely obvious that I have a crush on you? Because I do,” Frank says. He’s honestly willing to spill his heart out to Gerard if it means he’ll get to kiss Gerard again. He didn’t even realize how fucking hard he was falling until it went and slapped him in the face.

“Fuck,” Gerard says making a face, “Mikey was right. I do like you.”

Frank smiles, “does that mean you’re going to kiss me again?”

Gerard turns scarlet, and it’s sort of adorable.

“I’m, uh, I mean, Frank, I’m not a boy. I’m not a girl, so even if I look like a boy or a girl, that doesn’t make me one.”

“I know,” Frank says, “but I don’t care. Why should what you are matter? The only thing I’m going to have to draw the line at is if you’re a Bigfoot skeptic like your brother.”

“You serious?”

“I _never_ kid when it comes to Bigfoot, Gerard.”

Gerard tries to keep a straight face, but ends up giggling and it makes Frank smile to himself.

“You’re pretty extraordinary,” Gerard says.

“I try,” Frank says.

Gerard nods, and looks down at the duvet, “Frank, if you honestly accept me, then I want you more than anything. I don’t care about specifics, I just do.”

Frank grins, and puts a hand on the side of Gerard’s face, “I accept you.”

That’s all Gerard really needs to hear before attacking Frank’s mouth again, with ten times as much force this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that this story needed some emotional relief after the strain of the last few chapters. I mean, obviously it's not going to be that simple for Gee, but I'll let you guys have your fun.


	17. Mikey's Blessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh, I hate chapter summaries. You'll figure it out.

“Why do you look so happy?” Mikey asks when Frank enters the room.

“I, um, something happened,” Frank says, trying to pull the smile off his face. It’s hard though, he hasn’t had any real fun since school started. There’s something charming about Gerard that Frank can’t quite put his foot on.

“What does that mean?” Mikey asks, sounding judgmental already.

“Okay, so I don’t know if you’re going to like this,” Frank sighs as he throws off his jacket, and inches over to where Mikey is sitting on his bed. He looks up at Frank with his signature glare that bites into Frank pretty viciously. 

“It’s about Gerard,” Frank says.

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” Frank says, biting his lip.

“What did you two do?” Mikey asks, in a tone that suggests the two of them robbed a bank. 

“Gerard kissed me,” Frank says, and then steps backward away from Mikey. It’s not that he thinks the guy is violent, but he doesn’t actually know what Mikey’s reaction will be. It’s Mikey, so there’s really know way to say exactly. Most of the things he does have no reasoning behind them, and he’s got that fucking poker face so there’s no telling what shit he’s going to pull before it’s been pulled.

“You kissed Gerard?” He asks, turning away from his laptop screen to look at Frank critically. His glasses are slipping on the bridge of his nose to make him look like an old stuffy school professor. 

“Well, I mean, Gerard kissed _me_ ,” Frank says defensively.

“You kissed back?” Mikey says, but it’s not a question.

“I may have.”

“You like Gee, you’ve admitted to it. I know you kissed back. Also you wouldn’t have that expression on your face if you didn’t kiss back,” Mikey states.

“You don’t look that angry,” Frank asks hopefully.

“This is my angry face,” Mikey says, looking up at him, with the same face he has for everything. It never changes, he barely even smiles. Frank has seen him actually smile only a few times. One of those times was when he watched Frank fall down the stairs. He’s a bit of a sadist.

“So you are angry?”

“I’m not very happy. I’m not necessarily angry though.”

“Well that’s better than wanting to rip my throat out,” Frank shrugs.

Mikey rolls his eyes, and throws his laptop to the side of his bed. He starts looking at Frank with a more severe version of the same face he had a minute ago, and also the same face he had last week, two months ago, and probably when he was born. He looks extremely uninterested with most things.

“Are you fucking serious though? Gerard?” Mikey asks.

“Mikes, I’m not going to lie to you, okay? I like Gerard, and you know I do, and Gee said that they like me. Gerard also said something about the fact that you talked with them. You told Gerard that I could be a good influence,” Frank says, hoping to god that the words Gerard relayed about Mikey are still true. It’s one thing to be okay with the idea of something, but it’s another to actually _be_ okay with something.

“Gerard’s so complicated, Frank. I love Gee, but I don’t know how much pressure you’ll be putting on them. Gerard is a great person, but there’s some inner demons there, Frank. You’re not a bad person, but you’re not a miracle worker. I don’t know how much you can really do.”

“Mikey, I don’t care that I’m necessarily unable to help or something. It’s not about curing Gerard, or anything, I don’t believe I, or anyone else can do that, it’s about making us both happy. I like Gee, and it’s not one-way, so I don’t see why you should be against the fact that I do, at the heart of this, I want to make Gerard happy. That’s what I want. I know I can’t do everything in the world, and I can’t really do much to make things better, but I can be there to hold Gerard’s hand through the hell it’ll take to feel better about who they are.”

“That’s a pretty fantastical speech for a guy who doesn’t even know who he is,” Mikey says.

“Okay, sure. I don’t know who I am, but I’m confident in the skin I’m in. Gerard knows who they are, and still hasn’t figured out the mechanics of looking at themself in the mirror. I see the irony in that, I’m not an idiot. I do know one thing about myself though, Mikey, one very specific thing, that I’m sure of, and that’s that I like Gerard,” Frank says firmly.

“Gerard’s not a boy, Frank. You’re not gay for being with Gee. Gerard’s not a girl either. I hope you realize what you’ll be juggling. You’re juggling having a nonbinary significant other, if that is indeed what you’re going to do,” Mikey tells him softly.

“I know that! Gerard said the same thing. I don’t care what Gerard is, I don’t give a flying fuck what’s going on with Gerard’s gender identity. I’ll respect it, pamper to their preferred pronouns and all that shit, but it’s not going to change how I feel about Gee. I like the person, not the gender they are. Not the sex, the gender, the anything. I don’t care, I just like Gerard.”

Mikey shakes his head and lets it fall into his hands. The room is quiet for a few minutes while Mikey deliberates, and he leaves Frank in a very uncomfortable position of standing and waiting. Frank’s nervous that he’s going to wear out a hole in the floor of their room from the amount of pacing he’s done in this spot.

“Frank,” Mikey says, sighing laboriously.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not happy about it, but-”

“Yes?” Frank prompts optimistically.

“But if you’re both for it, then I’m just going to have to live with it,” Mikey says.

Frank’s eyes pop and he hops over to Mikey’s bed, “Really?”

“I don’t think I have the power to really tell Gerard to do much of anything, and you’re like a fucking Chihuahua.”

“What does that have anything to do with Gerard and I?”

“Well you’re pretty energetic so I assume you’d give me a fucking guilt face if I told you I wouldn’t be okay with it. Besides, you don’t need my permission,” Mikey says.

“Well, yeah, but your blessing would be nice.”

“You don’t have all of it. Not in entirety. I’m not going to be okay with it overnight.”

“Alright, sure. I understand that,” Frank says, “Tell me what you’re thinking then? Like a trial thing? I mean, I promise that I am absolutely not going to listen to you if you tell me not to date Gerard, but I’ll at least walk on some egg shells around you if it helps.”

“Thanks,” Mikey says, looking especially unamused. “No, Frank. I don’t want you to be so afraid of me.”

“Well you’ve got this really calm demeanor that screams ‘serial killer’ to me.”

“Very funny Frank,” Mikey says, looking like he totally found it extremely funny, “But Frank, I want you to think about this a little more complexly.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for, like, three weeks, most especially in my dreams,” Frank says.

“Gross. Strange as it’s going to sound, Frank, I want you to take Gerard out on a date properly. I don’t want you two to decide you’re going to do this in a dorm room. Proper date, treat Gerard nice, you’re going to pay for it, and then if you’re still all in, than I guess that’s my blessing.”

“I’m paying?” Frank asks, suddenly feeling worried, “I’m fucking broke!”

“Yeah, but seeing as the man usually pays, and Gerard falls into a nonbinary category, than you are automatically defaulted as the man, so you pay.”

“That’s a medieval tradition instituted to make women seem more petite and weak,” Frank says, “if anyone is petite and weak it’s me. I’m not tall enough to ride a Ferris wheel!”

Mikey groans, “make as many excuses as you want, you’re going to pay, because this is about Gerard, and goddammit, if Gee wants to be treated like a lady, treat them like a lady.”

“I’ll do what _Gerard_ wants, not what you think Gerard wants, got that?” Frank says.

“But you agree to the date part?”

“I’ve never really done one of those actual fancy date things. Should be fun. I don’t know how I’ll pay for it, but Gerard’s worth it,” Frank says smiling and falls back onto his bed.

“Yuck, that’s Gerard, my sibling, you’re talking about. Don’t look all wistful thinking about them, it’s creeping me out. It’s fucking Gee for god’s sake!”

“Exactly,” Frank replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment?


	18. It's A Date (Well It's the Part Before A Date)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank's pants are too tight, and that's the best summary I can give you.

“You look like a penguin,” Mikey says.

“What? Seriously? Dude, fuck you, I’m not even wearing a suit!” Frank replies. He’s wearing his only pair of pants that aren’t six years old, wrought full of holes, and so faded that they’re just grey. Frank had a hard time even finding the pants buried under his bed, because he’s not used to wearing anything that hasn’t been through hell and back again. These pants haven’t exactly been broken in yet either so they’re chafing uncomfortably.

“You look stupid any time of the day, it doesn’t matter to me what you’re wearing. Though it’s that awkward little waddle you’re doing that make you look like a penguin.”

“Is it noticeable? These pants are as stiff as Anne Robinson’s face.”

“You look like you’ve got a wedgie,” Mikey says.

“Well that’s because I fucking do, I don’t know why I even bought these pants. They make my ass look nice, but it’s not worth the struggle,” Frank says.

“Wear different pants,” Mikey suggests like it’s the obvious thing to do.

“But I want to look like I put effort into this! I mean, what if I wear jeans as old as time itself, Gerard will think I don’t care at all!”

“Gerard is not superficial enough to look at the age of your pants. At least, probably not,” Mikey says, “though maybe don’t wear those old converse.”

“What? What’s wrong with my shoes?” Frank asks, defensively.

“They’re trashy. It looks like you’re a little kid who steps in as many puddles as he can, just to splash the water around,” Mikey tells him.

“But I _am_ a little kid who steps in puddles,” Frank says, “puddles are fun.”

“You are too immature to even breathe,” Mikey rolls his eyes, “and why the hell am I giving you fashion advice to go on a date with Gerard? This is weird. I’m supposed to grill you and tell you not to hurt Gee, because I’m the overbearing brother.”

“Please, Mikes,” Frank snorts, “you’re about as threatening as a small furry woodland creature.”

“We have both seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Small woodland creatures can be ferocious,” Mikey says.

“Mikey, you’re like fucking David Bowie, you are made out of toothpicks and glitter glue,” Frank says, “the only damage you have ever done to anything is the multiple sweatshirts you own, with holes in the arms where your elbow poked a hole in the fabric.”

Mikey frowns and then looks at his arm, “I do have rather pointy elbows don’t I?”

“You’re only just now noticing?”

“I could stab you with my pointy elbows, Frank.”

Frank looks over at Mikey who’s lying on his bed with his laptop on his chest, in what has to be the most thoroughly uncomfortable position known to man, and raises an eyebrow at him.

“You’d have to stand up to do that, and I’m guessing that you’re not going to be doing any standing up anytime soon.”

“It’s a Friday night, I have no obligation to stand up,” Mikey says. 

“I see that,” Frank replies, and tries to somehow tame his hair. He doesn’t particularly care though so he combs it out using his fingers, and then messes it up anyway afterwards.

Frank sighs at his reflection in the mirror on the inside of his tiny wardrobe, and decides that he looks good enough. Hopefully his pants aren’t that obviously starchy, and Mikey is just being an asshole. The latter is definitely true, but he doesn’t know if that’s _why_ Mikey said he looks like a penguin.

“How do I look?” Frank asks. 

Mikey only barely registers Frank saying anything, and doesn’t look up before he says,   
“stupid.”

“Okay great, that’s what I was aiming for,” Frank says sardonically.

“Well you achieved it.”

“I hate you, Mikey,” Frank says, “I’m taking out _Gerard_ , maybe you should provide some type of input?”

“I don’t want any part of you dating Gee. I want to pretend it’s not happening at all,” Mikey says.

“But if it goes well will you accept that I like Gerard and not disapprove?” 

“I don’t disapprove _now_ , but I’m not about to throw confetti and hang streamers,” Mikey replies.

“I’m not asking you to, but you look so sullen.”

“I always look sullen. I have a face as stiff as Anne Robinson’s only I haven’t done the whole plastic surgery thing. Though I don’t know, my face isn’t nearly as rigid as those pants.”

“Can we stop talking about my pants!” Frank asks, “It took like five minutes to cram myself into these fucking pants, I am not going to try to take them off now.”

“You asked for it when you pranced around like you have metal bars on your legs. You, my friend, look like a young Forrest Gump.”

Frank scowls and then shakes his head, “I don’t like you, I’m going to leave, and I’ll be sure to tell Gerard that you’re a prick.”

“Gee already knows!” Mikey yells at him. Frank shakes his head and makes for the door before Mikey calls him back into the room.

“What do you want?” Frank scolds.

“I just want you to take into consideration that Gerard is identifying as a girl today,” Mikey says.

“That means I use girl pronouns, right?” Frank asks, and Mikey nods affirmatively, “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“You’d fucking better,” Mikey says, and Frank understands what he means by that even without the words behind it.

Frank closes the door behind him and then rushes down the hall. He checks his watch before leaving the building to see that he’s either going to be early or right on time, and he doesn’t know which he would rather be. If he gets there right on time than it’ll seem like he planned things ahead too excessively, and if he gets there too early he’ll seem too eager. He could wait a little while, but then it’ll seem like he doesn’t care enough, and that’s the last thing he wants Gerard to think.

Frank decides that punctuality may be the only thing he can actually bring to the table, so he just heads out of the building right away. The air is still cold and stings his face, but he endures it until he makes it across campus to the right building.

He’d managed to straggle together a grand total of $27.34 which he is actually quite proud of. He did not think he’d find more than ten bucks by looking through his pant pockets. Gerard’s not allowed to order a drink or dessert or anything, but he can’t afford to take them anywhere expensive anyway. He has a big night planned. The most he can afford is a high class subway. That’s better than eating like a raccoon though.

Mikey doesn’t have to know the details. Frank may have exaggerated the amount of money he has, and as long as no one tells Mikey that he’s taking Gerard out for essentially fast-food, then everything should be fine. Gerard certainly isn’t as picky as Mikey is.

When Frank walks into the hall, he finds it dimly lit as always. Gerard’s door, the only one without any décor, looks the same as it always has. He takes in a deep breath, because he really shouldn’t be this nervous for a date, but he is anyway.

He tries to evaluate himself by looking down, and runs a hand through his hair, but he doesn’t know what all to do. Frank decides to pretend not to care, and then knocks quietly on the door.

Frank hears some rummaging around on the other side and bites his lip with anticipation.

“Ow, shit,” he hears from the other side of the door, and Frank smiles a little bit.

The doorknob turns and Frank takes in a last deep breath, before the door opens in front of him. Frank’s looking at his feet when the door opens and he looks up to see Gerard in front of him.

It’s a good thing he took a deep breath, because he almost has the wind knocked out of him when he sees Gee standing there.

“You, um... sorry,” Frank mumbles, almost incoherently.

“What?” Gee asks, “Too much?”

“No, it’s just that... well you look really gorgeous,” Frank says awkwardly and then blushes.

Really, he doesn’t know what else to say. Gerard looks like more than a million bucks. Priceless. _More_ than priceless.

Frank has a fleeting moment where he realizes that he’s falling too hard far too quickly. This is their first date, he should not be preparing his vows yet.

Gerard looks, for all intense and purposes, like a really sensationally pretty girl. She has a black pencil dress that wasn’t necessarily made for Gerard’s body type, but it’s been adjusted to accentuate Gerard flatteringly. Frank wasn’t really sure what he was expecting though. He’s seen Gerard in a dress a few times, and it was amazing each time, but right now it’s everything Frank’s ever dreamed of. 

Gee got all dolled up, and probably spent way too long on her makeup, but Frank thinks she’s beautiful. That’s not to say that she wouldn’t be gorgeous without makeup, but the fact is that she looks good with it too. 

Frank has to stop himself from gawking, because he’s just really happy that this is happening to him. His life is frantic, and stressful, but he’s content in it, because he gets to be here with Gerard right now. He knows he really does feel too much for Gee, given how fresh the relationship is, if that’s even the proper word yet, but Frank can’t help it. Frank likes Gerard. A lot.

“You sure it’s not too much?” Gerard asks, “Because I could change, it’ll only take a minute.”

Frank shakes his head, “no, you’re fine. You’re dressed to break a few hearts, but you’re really, just wow.”

Frank feels like a cliché, boring version of one of those movies where the girl walks down the stairs in her prom dress, and all the boy can say is that she looks beautiful. He understands what that must be like though now, being in that situation, because there’s nothing else he can say given the circumstances. Those scenes may be damn cliché, but they are also really accurate.

“Yeah?” She asks, smiling.

Frank had a lot easier time grasping all of this than even he’d thought. It’s the same Gerard, no matter what they wear. Same voice, same mind, same sense of humor, just different gender. It’s kind of crazy in Frank’s head to realize just how similar the two binary genders are. He’d always seen them as complete opposites, but really, there’s not much dividing them mentally.

There are some subtle things he notices in Gerard’s character, but only because he was overanalyzing things. Gee holds herself differently, a little more proper when she’s feeling like a girl. When identifying as a boy, there’s more of a slouch, and a sloppier way of walking.

Frank loves every nuance he notices more than the last. 

“Gerard, you’re dazzling,” Frank says confidently. 

Gee smiles, and tries to hide the blush creeping into her cheeks.

Gerard looks at the ground nervously and says, “Shall we go then?” 

Frank nods excitedly, “yeah, sure.”

Gerard grabs the door and closes it after leaving the small room. Frank wishes he could enunciate what he wants to say, but he can’t, so he just smiles and looks down at his feet. By comparison, Gerard is a Fabergé egg and Frank is a cracked rotten one. Though he is okay with that, because Gerard is practically radiant, and it would be a crime to compare the way she looks to anything.

“You’re pants look really uncomfortable,” Gerard notes.

Frank snorts out laughter and nods, “yeah, so I’ve been told.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy International Literacy Day everyone. I am assuming you are all literate because you are reading this blurb.


	19. Fluffiest Fluff to Ever Fluff in the Fluffing Fluffed Fluffering of Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> None of the words in the title are actual words.

“I’ve never been on a date,” Gerard says as they’re walking down the sidewalk. Frank doesn’t have a car. He used to have shoes with wheels in them, but then he realized that his generation was going to rule the country someday, and he had an existential crisis.

“I find that hard to believe,” Frank says.

“Well when you’re the weirdo dude who wears a skirt to school you’re pretty much exiled. I didn’t have time for dating, I was too busy getting pushed into lockers,” Gerard replies, “and the really annoying part is that it’s happening again.”

“It’s not going to happen again,” Frank says trying to mollify Gerard’s bitterness.

“I got punched in the face, Frank,” Gerard reminds him.

“Well, but that might have just been because you were taking that flyer down. If it’d been me I’d have gotten punched in the face too.”

“It was intolerance, and there’s no way you can swing it to change that fact,” Gerard states.

“Okay, so let’s try to not talk about that. For one thing, it makes me kind of sad to hear you talk like that, and for another thing, I don’t want this to be about what you are, Gee, I want it to be about who you are,” Frank replies.

“Okay, you’re right. You’re right, I’m being a downer,” Gerard nods.

“It’s okay, I get it. Well, I don’t, I’ve never had to live through the shit you live through, but I understand that it’s hard on you. I’m not going to make fun of you, Gee. I wouldn’t do that. To me, you’re pretty fantastic, and I wouldn’t change anything about you. I’m not saying that you don’t get hate, I’m not saying that at all, but you’re not going to get it from me.”

“God,” Gee says, “I really hate the fact that you can just say things like that. No one just strings words together like that. Were you fucking Shakespeare in another life?”

“If you’re implying that I was fucking Shakespeare that would probably have made me Anne Hathaway,” Frank says.

Gerard snorts, “I’m not sure whether that was technically a Shakespearean joke or a grammar joke, but it was really bad, and I’m disappointed in you.”

“Kind of both, and I royally apologize,” Frank replies. He doesn’t know why, but that was simultaneously the cutest and weirdest laugh he’s ever heard.

“My point was that you have a big vocabulary, not that you fornicated with The Bard.”

“I seriously doubt I’ve ever heard anyone sound so impressed with just words. True words at that. I’m not a poet, I just really like you and I’m calling it as it is,” Frank shrugs.

“No one is that good at just talking, and I hate that you’re not even trying. Fuck, what must I sound like?” 

“I like the way you talk!” Frank says.

“Yeah whatever,” Gerard says, “I hope you’re not wasting all your money on me. You know, I wouldn’t mind raiding a vending machine.”

“Really?” Frank asks, excitedly. Honestly, Doritos sound fantastic to him.

“I’m cool with it if you are.”

Frank grins at Gerard, remembering why he likes them in the first place.

“Let’s go find us a vending machine!” Frank says, grabbing Gee’s hand. 

“Only if you buy me Oreos,” Gerard says.

“Done,” Frank laughs, and then he pulls Gerard behind him along the sidewalk.

About twenty minutes later, they’re sitting on Gerard’s bed with an assortment of overly salty snacks that they found in the vending machine down the hall. Frank made sure to buy Gee Oreos. Then she threw one at Frank and it hit him in the forehead. Apparently it’s funny to hit Frank in the face with cookies.

“Was that entirely necessary?” Frank asks, when the Oreo falls into his lap, and leaves crumbs on his jeans.

“It was more than necessary,” Gerard explains, “it was vital for the continued existence of the human race.”

“Really?” Frank asks, picking the Oreo up and rolling it in his hands. “So then it doesn’t hurt if I just throw it back at you.”

He tosses it at Gee, and it only barely makes it that far before it falls down her side, and onto the bedspread.

“Well no, because now you’ve reversed my progress,” Gerard says, “I have to throw it back at you or else the moon will fall out of the sky. Without the moon, how will we ever have cheese? If we don’t have cheese than Italy will certainly have some sort of concentrated explosion, and without Italy, everyone will be sad so we’ll all just die from lack of pasta.”

“That’s rather grim. All of this because of an Oreo?” Frank asks as Gerard hits him right in the nose. The aim was better that time, and she snorts when it makes contact.

“Well what else? Oreo’s are essential for human survival, so it makes sense that they have the power to control the moon,” Gee says.

“Your theory seems sound to me,” Frank says, “Except for this one tiny thing.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Gerard asks.

“Well, you see, Oreos have cream in the middle,” Frank says, pulling the cookie apart, “which presumably has some sort of dairy in it. Probably some milk and sugar and other shit. You said that if the moon were to fall out of the sky, then we would no longer have cheese, but in order to save the moon you have to throw an Oreo at me which would then save all the cheese. I’m just curious as to where you think cheese comes from.”

Gee grins at him and says with no amount of uncertainty, “Cheese comes from the same place that babies come from. Outer space.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” Frank rolls his eyes, and grabs another potato chip from the bag he was working on before he’d been hit with a flying wafer-like projectile.

“And you’re bad at dodging things.”

“Fair is fair,” Frank shrugs. “So what does this moon falling out of the sky principle have to say about throwing Skittles?”

“Well if you throw Skittles, I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you,” Gerard says looking absolutely serious.

“Oh yeah?” Frank asks, before he grabs the bag of Skittles. He tears the packet open carefully, picks out an orange one, because he’s not very fond of the orange ones, and then he throws it at Gee.

“Wow you really crossed a proverbial line there, didn’t you?”

“Ah yes. The highly regarded, extremely renowned don’t-throw-Skittles-at-me-or-I-will-slaughter-you line,” Frank laughs.

“That’s exactly what it’s called,” Gee grins, and puts the bag of Oreo’s on the duvet beside her. “I’m going to have to kill you now.”

“Well you gotta do what you gotta do,” Frank says.

Gerard’s either really quick, or Frank has slow reflexes, or both. Though Frank did just get pelted with food without even having time to flinch, so it’s very likely that he’s just really slow. In any case, Gerard pounces on top of Frank, making him try to repress from laughing at how odd the situation is.

“Hi,” Gerard says, looking down at Frank. He’s sprawled across the bed on his back with Gerard basically on top of him. It would be awkward or suggestive if Frank weren’t so amused.

“Hello,” he says, trying not to laugh.

“I really don’t want to kill you,” Gerard says with a sigh.

“Well how about you misspell kill with two S’s?” Frank asks.

“But ‘L’ and ‘S’ are on opposite ends of the keyboard,” Gee says.

“Well you can kiss me or you can kill me, it’s your choice.”

Gee takes a moment to mock a face of contemplation, before grinning and bending down to close the few inches of free space Frank has left.

Now it’s not like Frank goes around kissing people willy-nilly, but he can say with a certain amount of confidence that Gerard is very good at it. Not that there’s necessarily such a thing as a bad kisser, because when you like someone, it doesn’t matter how good they kiss, it’s perfect in your eyes. It’s safe to say that Frank really likes the way Gerard kisses.

Gerard’s never really kissed anyone before Frank. Sure there was that prissy girl at summer camp when he was eleven, but that doesn’t really count. Especially because the name of that girl escapes Gerard’s brain. Something spelled with an ‘I’ that shouldn’t have been. Lori or Brandi or Ami or something to that extent. Whatshername wasn’t a very good kisser. It felt more like a carwash than a make out.

See the problem is that Gee has no idea what to do though. Not only is she unaware of first date etiquette, she also doesn’t know what the fuck you’re supposed to do when you’re in the precarious position of whatever the hell kind of mindset she’s in. She’s aware that Frank is really hot, and way too good for her, and doesn’t understand why, of all the people Frank could have, he’s here with her. He could have anybody, and he’s here with Gerard which suggests some sort of incident in Frank’s childhood where he was dropped on his head at some point.

“Whoa, hold on,” Frank says, because Gerard is being either presumptuous, or clueless as all hell.

“Oh fuck sorry. Was that not okay?” Gee asks. She may or may not have let her fingers stray south, and Frank may or may not have had a reaction like one of those pens you use in grade school with the animal head on the top that were always really popular, because when you squeeze the end it makes the eyes pop out.

“It’s uh... well,” Frank says, and now the position has become awkward.

“Fuck, I ruined a moment,” Gerard says rolling off of Frank, and over to the edge of the bed that’s pressed up against the wall.

“Gerard, it’s just that, like, I like you, but I’m not going to sleep with you just because we went out on a date,” Frank says.

“I... you don’t want to sleep with me?”

“What?” Frank exclaims, “When did I say that? I didn’t say that! I just am not comfortable having sex after a first date. I don’t play like that.”

“Is it because I’m a boy?” Gerard asks.

“You’re totally putting words into my mouth, Gee. For one thing, you’re not a boy, at least not officially-”

“But physically I am,” Gerard says.

“Well yeah, sure, physically. Physically I am too. Physically so is Stephen Fry or Bob Dylan, but that doesn’t matter, okay? You’re thinking way too much into this, Gerard. It’s not about the fact that you’re a boy physically or anything like that. It’s about the fact that I wouldn’t have sex with _anyone_ after a first date.”

“Are you sure?” Gerard asks, “No one’s ever asked me out before so I don’t know what’s supposed to happen. I just thought, you know, like I’m not that special, I just thought maybe I could actually offer something.”

“What do you think I like you for? Your nose? Your hair follicles? You have to account for your own personality,” Frank says.

“I don’t know, I’ve never spent any time with myself,” Gee says. “What am I even like?”

She collapses down beside Frank on her back, and then looks over at him innocuously, with a curious angle structuring her eyebrows. Frank sighs, and turns his head to look right into Gee’s eyes, which are really pretty up close. He’s fairly sure that there are entire planets and worlds in those hazel eyes. Frank stumbles for a minute, trying to take his mind off of how gorgeous Gee is.

“Well,” Frank says, assuming that wasn’t a rhetorical question, “you’re nice. That’s such a bland word, but you are. Kind? I guess that word makes more sense. Basically you’re just a good person, and that’s something that a lot of people aren’t these days, you know? A lot of people are really selfish, and they’re too busy being confrontational about everything, so they don’t find the time to just be a good fucking person. That’s what you are, and I really like that. You’re also a giant dork, but I like dorky people.”

“I am a dork,” Gerard nods with a satisfied face.

“And you’re proud of it,” Frank says, laughing at the expression on Gee’s face after being told she’s a dork.

“I am. I’m a proud dork. You’re a dork too.”

Frank shrugs, “Yeah, I’m pretty much a dork. Not as dorky as you though. You know more about Star Wars than you do about the U.S. Constitution.”

“That’s because Star Wars is interesting.”

Frank snorts, “The constitution is basically the foundation that the country runs on.”

“Yeah, but Star Wars has light sabers and Harrison Ford,” Gerard says.

“And that’s all that matters in life?” Frank asks, and Gee nods, “What about Samuel L. Jackson. Everyone likes him.”

“I refuse to acknowledge episodes one through three exist.”

“Oh your one of _those_ people, are you?” Frank asks.

“If you’re _not_ one of those people then I think we’re going to need to part ways,” she replies.

“You refuse to associate with people who like the newer films?” Frank laughs.

“This is not funny business, I’ll have you know,” Gerard says looking completely serious. “If you’re deal breaker is Bigfoot skepticism, than mine is that Star Wars episodes one through three are shit.” 

“Don’t worry then,” Frank says, “I will never bring the new movies up ever again.”

“Promise?” Gee asks, and holds up her hand, raising the pinky finger.

“I promise,” Frank laughs, twisting his pinky with Gerard’s, “there will be no talk of whatever it was we were just talking about.”

~*~*~*~

They end up talking about anything but the aforementioned movie for way longer than they’d anticipated. Frank doesn’t even realize it’s past midnight until he looks over at the clock.

“Wow is it really that late?” Frank asks.

“I guess so,” Gee shrugs, “should you be going back to your room then?”

“Yeah, probably. Your brother will kill me if I don’t,” Frank says.

“Mikey wouldn’t kill you. He might maim you, but he doesn’t have enough intent to actually murder you.”

“Comforting,” Frank says, pulling himself into a sitting position on the bed. Gerard pulls herself up beside Frank as well. She watches him as he tries to fix his staticky hair that’s sticking out in weird ways.

“You look stupid with that hair,” Gerard says.

“You are stupid in general,” Frank retorts.

“Mean.”

“Not untrue.”

Gee shrugs, “I didn’t say it was untrue, but it was mean all the same.”

Frank shakes his head, and picks himself up off of the bed. Gerard follows quickly behind to walk him over to the door.

Frank turns to look at Gee for a few moments before he grabs the doorknob, and makes an attempt to go. Before he can actually leave though, Gerard calls him back.

“Hey Frank,” Gee says before Frank closes the door.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to tell you, uh,” she stops, and bites down on her already raw looking bottom lip. “I wanted to tell you that I like the way you make me feel like I’m not a worthless piece of shit.”

“And I like making you realize that you’re not even close to worthless,” Frank replies.

Gee smiles at him, a real, happy smile. A little bashful, but genuine all the same. Frank can’t help but grin back, because he really does like seeing Gerard smile whenever he possibly can. 

As far as things go, especially when you evaluate present company, this has been a great first date. Not only that, it’s probably the best first date that the world has ever seen. Even despite the awkward patch in the middle, which they both completely forgot about as they kept talking, it was perfect. The fact that they even got some fresh air before bailing on the scary outdoors thing and pigged out on junk food. That’s what made it special though. It was the kind of date Frank would go on, not some big fancy restaurant where people call their waiters Garson. That would have felt fake, this was a real date. A real date that went just as Gee would have expected, but it still managed to exceed her expectations. Considering the fact that it’s Frank, her expectations were pretty damn high.

“See you later?” Frank asks.

Gerard nods and Frank takes a quick second to think about it, before he leans in a little and pecks her on the cheek. It’s a first date, and for the love of god, Frank’s never gotten to give someone a goodnight kiss.

“I like you a lot, Frank,” Gee says.

Frank backs away a few steps, in a slow descent down the hall before he says, “I like you a lot too, Gee.”

With that, Frank turns around, and heads for the door. He hears the door close behind him, and he looks back for a second to see Gerard’s door. Frank doesn’t know why, but he feels himself blushing a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I finally updated, and it's fluffy as fuck!


	20. The Best Type of Procrastination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ll admit that this is mostly a filler chapter to reintroduce you to this story since it’s been a while.

“You ever get insanely cryptic text messages from Gerard that force you to wonder whether the world is falling out of the sky or the more likely possibility, they ran out of ramen?” Frank asks.

“What kind of text did you get?”

Frank looks down at his phone and reads the message back to Mikey, “’I think I’m dying, Frank, please will you kill my professor for me?’”

“Sounds pretty melodramatic,” Mikey shrugs, “though you’ve threatened the deaths of several of your teachers as well.”

Frank shrugs, “I know. There are some other texts here as well. My personal favorite is ‘gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah’ with 21 a’s.”

“What class is it?”

Frank shrugs, “I have no idea. I just know that it’s ‘gah’ with 21 a’s worthy.”

“Why did you count all the a’s?”

“Because I’m bored,” Frank replies.

“Don’t you have class in like,” Mikey looks at the clock in the right hand corner of his computer, “fifteen minutes?”

“My professor canceled, I got the email this morning,” Frank says, lying upside down on his bed, mostly just to see how long it will take for him to become dizzy. He likes awkward angles that no one else could find comfortable. Frank’s constantly practicing for the monkey bar Olympics.

“Please tell me you did not mortally wound your professor.”

“No, don’t be silly. If I were to mortally wound someone I’d make sure they were incapable of sending an email because they’re in too much pain. No, my professor has a cold. Apparently it’s okay for _him_ to cancel the class because Mr. Ninety year old tweed jacket with the ugly elbow patches got sick, but when I get sick it’s a whole different story.”

“You know they don’t take attendance in college, right? Like, you don’t have to go to class if you’re sick.”

Frank frowns, but he’s literally upside down on his head, hence making it look like a smile somewhat. Mikey looks at him, trying to reason how stupid Frank looks, while also trying to write a fifteen page paper.

“I have no money, Mikey. No money whatsoever. I am going to be paying for this tuition until I have been dead for several hundred years. If I’m paying that much for this, I sure as hell am not going to be skipping anything.”

“Suit yourself,” Mikey shrugs.

“Ugh, Mikey, I want coffee and a diploma,” Frank groans.

“Same.”

“I also want to make out with Gerard,” Frank adds.

“Not same. Gross.”

“Oh, I have a text!” Frank says when the annoying sound of his phone fills the room. He downloaded the loudest message tone he could find so that it would annoy the shit out of Mikey. It also annoys Frank, but at least he never misses a text, because the damn thing is louder than a gunshot.

“Gerard?” Mikey asks.

“Yes. I told them that you were being stupid and looked like you just ate a lemon. Gerard says, ‘Mikey’s such a bitter person, a lemon probably tastes like pure sugar.’”

Mikey nods, “I can confirm that that is one hundred percent factual and accurate.”

“So you must really hate things like Cheesecake and stuff, huh? It’s probably like being injected with molasses.”

“If that’s you trying to find a loophole to steal cheesecake from me than it will not work. Frank, I will murder you if you ever try to steal any kind of cake from me.”

“Urinal cake?”

“You’re welcome to steal as many urinal cakes from me as you wish, but nothing else, okay? Nothing else,” Mikey says with warning in his tone.

“Alright, fine. No cheesecake thefts if I want to keep breathing,” Frank says defensively.

About twenty minutes later, while Frank is attempting to complete all of Bohemian Rhapsody by himself, Mikey is getting ready to murder Frank. Frank’s still upside down on his bed, and his face is turning red because of the blood rushing onto his face, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“Frank,” Mikey says, gritting his teeth, “would you maybe stop?”

Frank doesn’t respond, he just continues to sing, wildly out of key. 

“Is Gee’s class over yet? Go bother them, okay? Go bother someone who isn’t trying to write a paper!” 

“I'm just a poor boy!”

“Yeah, I get it, and nobody loves you. Including me,” Mikey says with complete deadpan on his face. “Please, would you go?”

Frank just draws his eyebrows together which looks really bizarre when he’s upside down, and he raises his middle finger which also looks really bizarre when he’s upside down.

“Alright, how much do I have to pay you for you to go away?” Mikey asks.

Frank grins and raises his hands showing all ten fingers.

“No, I can’t afford that,” Mikey shakes his head and reaches into his pocket, “how about three bucks and two pieces of gum?”

Frank considers for a moment and finally asks, “What flavor of gum?”

Mikey rolls his eyes, looks at the stick of gum and sniffs it, “I don’t know. Smells like some type of fruit.”

“Deal,” Frank says, rotating on his bed. He shakes his head and stares around the room in a daze for a moment because he’s not used to being right side up. He blinks his eyes, but his vision turns white for a moment and then fades away leaving him with just a weird feeling in his head.

“You are so cheap,” Mikey rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever. Gimme,” Frank says, grabbing the money and gum that Mikey threw onto his bedspread. “I’m going to go make out with Gerard now.”

“Okay, have fun,” Mikey says, obviously not listening to Frank at all.

“And then I’m going to shave your head and buy a pet crocodile to live under your bed. Ha, that rhymed!”

“That’s great.”

Frank giggles, and looks at Mikey from the door, “and I’m also going to impregnate the president. Maybe if I have time, I’ll even sell your kidney on the black market.”

“Good for you, Frank,” Mikey says.

Frank rolls his eyes and opens the door, “love you too, Mikey.”

Frank grins and makes his way out of the dorm again, because Gerard’s class actually did end like five minutes ago, but he was having too much fun annoying Mikey. Though he got three bucks out of the exchange so he’ll take this as a victory.

Frank skips across the campus, his feet carrying to Gerard’s room almost like it’s a second nature. He does spend a lot of time in Gerard’s room though.

When he knocks on the door, Gee opens it almost immediately and rolls their eyes when they see Frank.

“You piss off Mikey?”

“I did!”

“I’m proud of you,” Gerard replies and walks over to sit on their bed to continue looking at pictures of cats on the internet. Sometimes you just have to look at cats when you’ve had a stressful day.

“Aren’t you just?” Frank grins and goes over to sit on the bed right beside Gerard. Mostly he just wants to look over their shoulder at the cats.

“What’d you get from him?” Gerard asks, “He used to pay me in comic books.”

“I got three bucks and two sticks of gum,” Frank says.

“Oh really? Can I have one of the sticks of gum?”

“No!”

“You’re going to have to leave if I can’t have gum,” Gerard says, looking at Frank seriously.

“You fight dirty, just like Mikey. I see how you two are related now,” Frank replies.

“That was uncalled for. I’m way more attractive than Mikey,” Gerard jokes, “and also I have a much better nose.”

“You have the same fucking nose,” Frank says, throwing the gum at Gerard. 

“No, mine is better,” Gerard says.

“My nose is better than both of yours,” Frank says rolling his eyes.

“Why are you here if all you want to do is insult my nose and throw gum at me?” Gerard asks, even though they’re smiling at Frank.

“Because, apparently Mikey doesn’t like hearing a repetitive encore of horribly off-key Queen songs.”

“That menace.”

“I know right?” Frank exclaims, and beams at Gerard. He’s really not over the fact that Gerard likes him. He’s not over the fact that anyone likes him. He’s Frank. He likes that someone likes him, but it confuses him greatly.

“What flavor is the gum? Mikey couldn’t tell.”

“You want to find out?”

“That’s disgusting, you’re gross,” Frank says, rolling his eyes, “I hate you, and also, sure, why not?”

A minute later Frank decides that it is some sort of mixed berry gum. It doesn’t really taste like fruit, it tastes like chemicals, but it tastes like chemicals trying to impersonate some variety of mixed fruit. Overall, not bad. It’s the packaging that sells it though. 

“You don’t have homework do you?” Frank asks.

“Actually I have a lot of homework,” Gerard replies and makes a face.

“I have a lot too,” Frank says groaning, “I have a proposition for you.”

“And what would that be?”

“I would very much like to procrastinate all of my responsibilities with you,” Frank says, blinking his eyes at Gerard like one of the cats on the laptop.

“That depends on what fashion of procrastination you’re considering,” Gerard replies, looking at Frank, seemingly unaffected by the way he’s batting his eye lashes. Gerard is far from unaffected, the only thing running through their head is ‘damn, he’s cute.’

“Not a lot of talking,” Frank says, looking up at the ceiling like he’s thinking really hard, “and quite a bit of your tongue in my mouth.”

“I think I can be persuaded into procrastinating then,” Gerard says with a nod. Frank grins and then covers Gerard’s mouth with his own again. Because, you know, he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’m going to update this soon, hopefully. I’m starting this off with a happier chapter though, because we all know that shit needs to happen soon.


	21. Falling...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I said I'd update soon and then it took me a month (sorry).

So Frank’s made a habit of going to Gerard’s dorm unannounced by now. He just likes it there. It’s a mess, and there’s clothes everywhere, but he likes it. Gerard is messier than even Mikey, which is saying something pretty extraordinary.

On one such day when Frank has way too much work to be doing that he is putting off until the last moment, as usual, he’s making his way towards that part of campus with a sandwich and an orange, because the cafeteria was out of apples. Frank likes eating lunch with Gerard, because when he eats lunch with Mikey, the guy stares at him rather creepily. Also, Frank is dating Gerard, not Mikey, so it’d be weird to have lunches with him as often as he does with Gerard. 

When Frank makes his way in that direction though, he notices somewhat of a commotion going on outside of Gerard’s building. A lot of people look really confused or annoyed. Frank doesn’t ask any of them what’s going on until he gets to the door when he sees even more people standing outside in the freezing cold, looking extremely baffled.

“Hey, do you know what’s going on?” Frank asks a girl who’s standing near the door in attire that is not suitable for the temperature outside.

“Someone set off the fire alarm,” the girl says.

“What?” Frank asks, “Like someone pulled the fire alarm or someone started an actual fire?”

‘I don’t know,” she says with a shrug.

“Are people allowed back in?” Frank asks. He hadn’t noticed any fire trucks, nor does he recall hearing the sound of a siren, so he’s confused as to what precisely is going on.

“Not yet,” she says, and Frank nods, looking confused.

When Frank turns to look at the swarm of people all shivering outside of the building, he doesn’t see Gerard’s face in the bunch. He doesn’t see any hint that Gerard’s there, but Frank knows Gerard’s schedule, so he knows that they don’t have class.

Frank checks his watch and frowns. The obvious place where Gerard would be, if not in their dorm, is the library. Frank frowns and so decides to make his way to that building instead. He goes a little more hurriedly to the library, because he’s gotten a little colder from standing outside.

When Frank enters the library building, he has to find somewhere to stash his food because the librarians are able to sniff out food like bloodhounds. Frank hides his bag behind a book shelf in the corner of the room and then makes his way to the table where Gerard usually sits. It’s also the table where Frank usually sits as well, and the place where they first officially met.

Frank sees Gerard’s hair the second he turns into an aisle of bookshelves. They’re bent over a book, the mess of black tresses hiding their face from view. Frank spots what appear to be male clothes, but he’s learned not to just assume things so quickly. 

Frank would normally sit across from Gerard, as that’s what a normal person does, but he knows Gerard, so instead, Frank sits in the chair right beside them. He doesn’t really make any introduction other than that, Frank just sits down next to Gerard.

“Hey Gee,” Frank whispers.

“What?” Gerard asks, their head darting upwards and looking around. Gerard looks at Frank for the smallest fraction of a second, before letting their head fall back down to the book they were looking at. Frank barely even catches any glimpse of their face.

“Did you see that your building has been, like, evacuated because the fire alarm went off?” Frank asks.

“Yes,” Gerard says curtly, “I was there when it happened.”

“Okay,” Frank nods, “Well I was heading over to your room for lunch, but I figured you’d be here.”

“I need to find less predictable hiding places.”

Frank tries to find the joking tone in that statement, but it doesn’t seem to be there. Gerard’s acting very strangely right now.

“Do you have a lot of work?” Frank asks, because maybe that’s why Gee is being so brief with him.

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay,” Frank nods. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Yes.”

Frank feels a little hurt by how dismissive Gerard is being. They’re not even looking at him, just down at their book. The funny thing is that Gerard doesn’t have any studying supplies. No pencil, or laptop. It doesn’t look like they’re trying to get any work done at all. 

Frank decides that, for now, it’s best not to test anything, and just make an exit. Gerard doesn’t look like they’re in a great mood.

“Okay,” Frank says, looking at Gerard sadly, “should I stop by your room later then?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Gerard answers.

“Okay,” Frank nods, “so um... Gee, you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“I suppose.”

Frank nods, knowing that that’s not really an answer. Frank isn’t apparently wanted right now and that’s a bummer, but he’s not going to just force his way into Gerard’s life right now if they don’t want him there.

Frank sighs, and scoots back in his chair, before standing up and pushing the chair back in. He looks down at Gerard for another long moment, wishing he knew what was wrong so he could try to fix it. He’d do anything to fix whatever is wrong. He’d do just about anything he could to make Gerard happier. He just wants to see Gee smile.

“Gee, I-” Frank starts before shaking his head. Gerard doesn’t move an inch, just sits there, looking down at the book.

“I hope you have a good day, “Frank says, putting a hand on Gerard’s shoulder for a second and squeezing, before he’s setting off back the way he came.

~*~*~*~

Frank knows that Gerard had said they’d prefer it if Frank didn’t stop by their room, but he just can’t help it. Frank’s been nervous almost all day. He actually had to do some of his homework to keep his mind off of it. Frank literally did homework to distract himself from the worry in the pit of his stomach. As it turns out, all Frank really needs to do to get all of his work done is have a feeling of utter terror in the pit of his stomach. Who knew?

Gerard had asked him not to come round though, and Frank decides he just can’t listen. So, he ends up paying way too much for a slice of red velvet cake, and making his way to Gerard’s room with the way too expensive dessert. He figures, if Gerard isn’t feeling great, cake will cheer them up. Everyone likes cake. Everyone likes knowing someone they love spent too much money on them to make them feel a little better. Besides, it is one beautiful piece of cake.

The commotion from Gerard’s building has settled down so Frank can just walk freely into the dorm. There’s a buzz of people talking about what happened earlier, and from the bits and pieces of gossiping that Frank picks up, there’s still no explanation as to what happened.

When Frank gets to Gerard’s hall, he sees the door on the end and walks up to it, hoping that Gerard doesn’t shoo him away, which would be warranted.

The thing is that Gerard’s door has always stood out. It’s the only one without anything on it, that’s what makes it different. There’s no drawings, or a whiteboard, not even a piece of lined paper held up by scotch tape that says the name of the inhabitant. There’s nothing.

At least, that was true of Gerard’s door up until today.

When Frank gets to the door his heart falls so far down that he’s sure it must’ve just crash-landed a million feet below the surface of earth, somewhere in the kingdom of hell. He just feels every part of his entire body slacken as the dread washes over him, because seeing Gerard’s door makes him regret having to call himself the same species as the people around him. 

Someone’s done a very very horrible thing to Gerard’s door, and it makes Frank want to vomit. There are some words in the English language that should never be used by any human ever, even if it’s satirical. Words have the power to be very powerful, and very hurtful. Some words just need to be exiled, and everyone knows what most of those words are. People know not to say them, or certain people know it’s not appropriate for them to use those words. People also should know that it is never okay, absolutely _never_ appropriate to carve one of those words into the door of someone else’s room.

Somebody apparently did not get that memo though, because Frank’s looking at the carved out word and it’s making him feel physically ill that someone could ever possibly call Gerard that, especially considering that it’s Gerard. Gerard does not deserve that type of behavior, no one does, but it hits Frank more that it’s Gerard than it would if it were someone else.

“Fuck,” Frank whispers to himself, and then goes up to the door, making a face at the word up close.

Frank knocks carefully and says, “Gerard?”

“Go away,” Gerard replies.

“Gee, I, oh god, fuck,” Frank starts, “I don’t know what to say, but I want to talk. Would you just let me in?”

“Why on earth would you want to talk to me? I’m a tr-”

“Don’t say that word, Gerard. Besides, it’s not me who you’re angry at.”

“I’m not in a good mood, okay?”

“Yeah, well I see that,” Frank replies, “but I just wanna, like, talk. Gerard, I don’t care if all you do is complain to me for a few hours, just don’t shut yourself away, okay?”

There’s some moving around on the other side of the door, and then it opens hesitantly, with Gerard peaking outside with a wounded puppy look on their face. Frank looks back, not knowing what to say, or how to get that sad face to go away.

“What did I do that was so wrong?” Gerard asks, “Like, why are people so mean?”

“Gee, I really wish I could just make everything stop and step back for you. I wish I could make sure everyone was nice to you. You deserve to have everyone respect you and I’m so fucking sorry that that’s not the case.”

Gerard shakes his head and looks down at the floor. Without saying anything to Frank, Gerard opens the door enough for Frank to walk in.

“Frank, I’m sorry,” Gerard says, closing the door as soon as Frank is inside. 

“Sorry about what?”

“Sorry that I’m this person. That I’m so messed up and... and, just, I’m sorry. I’m just so sick and tired of being broken.”

“You’re not broken, Gee,” Frank says, “You don’t have anything to fix.”

Gerard nods slowly, not looking convinced of anything, until they just step closer to Frank and wrap both of their arms around him in what can only be compared to a death grip. Frank doesn’t comment on it, he just lets Gerard hold onto him, with a head on his shoulder. Frank’s arms are plastered to his sides, with the bag hitting against his leg. 

“Frank, it just hurts,” Gerard says, broken voice making Frank feel even sadder about all of this. Gerard just doesn’t deserve this. Not even the slightest.

It’s not like the word on the door is even accurate. It’s just some asshole, who Frank will beat the shit out of if he ever discovers their identity, trying to make Gee hurt. Even if that was a derogatory term that _did_ describe Gerard, it still wouldn’t be okay. 

Frank knows if someone said that to him, or something similar, it wouldn’t mean that much. He’d be able to brush it off and laugh about it. Gerard’s been going through hell to a higher caliber throughout more of their life, and Frank knows that he doesn’t understand, can’t understand. He wouldn’t want to either, because just the way it gets Gerard so down is about as close as Frank would ever be able to take.

There’s no doubt in his mind that Gerard is one of the strongest people Frank knows, because the shit they have to go through is brutal. Frank can’t even begin to imagine how scary it’s all been. The fear of realizing that you’re not who you’d thought you were and that’s why you’ve always felt out of place. The fear of having to admit it to yourself, and then to others. Frank doesn’t know how Gerard’s even able to keep their head up, because that sounds horrifying. It just goes to show how fucking _brave_ they are.

“I hate that anyone could be so awful to you. Gerard, I know my opinion doesn’t mean anything, because I’m just like, just me, and it’s only your own opinion that matters when it concerns you, but I think you’re amazing. I think that you are better than a lot of the people, if not all of the people I’ve ever met. I think you are everything everyone should strive to be,” Frank says.

“Why wouldn’t your opinion matter?” Gerard asks. Gee hasn’t stopped hugging Frank, and Frank kind of understands that. Sometimes it feels like you’re going to fall off the earth if you don’t just hold someone to keep you there. And sometimes, what you really need to feel better is to just know that someone is there to hug you when you need it.

“Well because you don’t need my approval,” Frank says, “it’s not like my approval means anything. I don’t want you to try to compare your worth to whatever I think or say. I don’t want you to get the idea that the words I or anyone else say have any control over you or the way you see yourself.”

“You’re too good a person,” Gerard says, muffled by the fact that their chin is crammed into Frank’s neck. “Why do you have a plastic bag?”

Frank had almost forgotten about it and he replies, “I thought you sounded upset earlier, so I bought you some cake.”

Gerard whimpers slightly, “You’re way too good a person.”

“I just really like you, Gee,” Frank replies, “and in any case, good or bad, the last thing I want is for you to be miserable. For your sake.”

Frank has a small and yet also extremely large epiphany at that point. He hadn’t really anticipated the revelation, but all of a sudden, Frank realizes that he’s falling in love with Gerard. That wasn’t on purpose. That was unintentional. When did that start to happen?

Then Frank sighs and lets Gerard hold him as close as he needs, because yeah, he’s starting to fall for Gee, and that’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so obviously there's mention of a word in this that I absolutely refuse to use, even in fiction, and if you don't know what that word is, than enjoy your ignorance.


	22. Sigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey is overprotective and also Frank has boner.

“Gerard!” someone yells.

Frank wakes up to the sound of someone pounding on the door, but he’s too tired to figure out who the hell it is. He also _just_ woke up so he’s not positive where the hell he even is. He feels something very warm wrapped around him, but he’s not sure exactly what. He just knows that he is more comfortable than he’s probably ever been, and the last thing he’d ever want to do is get up.

Someone else, a voice coming from right behind him grumbles something, and Frank has to think for a moment before realizing it’s Gerard. He opens his eyes just enough to figure out that he’s in Gerard’s bed. That wakes him up a little more, but then he sighs in relief to see that he’s got all his clothes on, so he didn’t do something quite possibly very stupid last night.

“Go away,” Gerard mumbles into Frank’s back which doesn’t really do anything. For one thing, whoever’s on the other side of the door can’t actually hear Gerard, and for another, Frank’s figured out that the person on the other side of the door is Mikey, who is stubborn as fuck.

“Mikey!” Gerard yells drowsily, and Frank can tell that they push up from the spot on the bed, which makes Frank feel really cold all of a sudden. He groans feeling incredibly displeased, when Gerard starts to scoot off the bed, careful not to disturb Frank too much. Frank’s awake though, but apparently Gerard doesn’t want to bother him. He’s not nearly as comfortable though when Gerard’s body isn’t pressed up against his any longer.

Frank has to take this moment to become more bodily aware and he wriggles around for a second when he realizes he has a certain morning problem, that’s incredibly awkward for him to have while in Gerard’s bed. He hides said problem with a carefully placed duvet and a positioning on his side.

The room is dark until the door opens where it’s a lot brighter. Frank has to squint a little because his eyes are really sensitive this early. He sees Mikey’s frame only because it’s a dark silhouette against the bright hallway.

“What’ya want?” Gerard asks.

“I want to know why Frank is in your bed,” Mikey says.

“I’m not here,” Frank says, grabbing Gerard’s pillow and covering his head. He’s sleepy enough to believe that he’s actually covered, but not enough to believe that Mikey will have all of a sudden forgotten he’s there. His arms are literally holding the pillow above the covers though so it’s not like he’s actually hiding at all.

“Yeah, you’ve totally convinced me, Frank. Where ever could you have gone?” Mikey says, “But that brings me to my point. Why is Frank in your bed?”

“I was having a bad day,” Gerard says, “Frankie just stayed over to help me get through it.”

“’Frankie’?” Mikey asks, “Gross. You gave him a nickname.”

“Relax Mikey!” Frank mumbles, pulling the pillow away from his face, “We didn’t do anything, we just fell asleep!”

“We watched The Breakfast Club and ate cake,” Gerard says smiling, “and then we nodded off.”

“It’s still creepy that my roommate is in your bed,” Mikey says.

“No, what’s creepy is that you’re so overprotective that you had to come to my room to make sure I didn’t fuck him,” Gerard says.

“Probably would be the other way around,” Frank says quietly enough that he doubts they heard him.

“Gross, Frank,” Mikey says. Apparently they had heard him.

“What’s it matter to you what we do?” Gerard asks. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“He is?” Mikey asks.

“Um, duh,” Frank says, “What’d you think I was? The guy who just hangs around Gerard way too much and has a habit of sticking his tongue into their mouth?”

“I didn’t need the visual,” Mikey says, scrunching up his face.

“Well face it, Mikes,” Gerard shrugs.

“I’m not angry I just didn’t think you were at that stage yet, that’s all.”

“Well I wouldn’t be if Frank weren’t so fucking perfect,” Gerard replies.

“This is true, I am perfect,” Frank says.

“Way to be modest.”

“I never said I was modest.”

“He’s really pretty I wouldn’t expect him to be modest,” Gerard says. It makes Frank blush when Gerard says it though. He’s falling really hard. As in, really really _really_ hard. Just thinking about Gerard right now is making his heart skip a beat.

Mikey rolls his eyes, “Well anyway, Gerard you need to talk to someone about your door. It’s really not okay that-”

“I’d rather not,” Gerard says.

“Well if you don’t than they can’t find who did it.”

“But maybe I don’t want to know who did it, okay? I know that it was just some, like, what was the term you used Frank?”

“Socialist, ass-faced, taint-breathed, monstrously imbecilic-brained piece of neglected sewer shit sitting in the sun with a giant sphincter face,” Frank says.

Gerard nods, “Yeah. That.”

“Frank, that’s a very colorful term,” Mikey says.

“It felt appropriate, given how much I would very like to hang this guy off a cliff by only his pinky toes.”

“I suggested no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing, until Frank reminded me that that’s from the book Holes which is way too good a book to describe such a piece of shit.”

Mikey nods slowly, like he’s trying to justify their conversation and then he says, “Well if you’re not going to talk to someone with the school about it than at least cover it up. If you have to see it then you might believe it’s true, and I just don’t want anyone to look past that when they walk by.”

“It’s _my_ door, I can do what I want with it,” Gerard says.

“I think Mikey actually might be right, Gee.”

“You’re taking Mikey’s side on this?” Gerard asks.

“Well, I don’t like seeing that word, and you can’t like seeing that word, so my guess is that no one wants to see that word,” Frank says, “besides, Gerard, you’re a fantastic artist, just draw something really nice and put it outside your door to cover it up.”

“Yeah,” Mikey says, nodding. It truly is a weird day if Mikey and Frank agree with each other. Their friendship has been built on insult based humor and pretending they detest the very ground each other walks on. Now, in all honesty, Frank would take a bullet for Mikey, but he’d be really sarcastic and give Mikey shit about it if it actually happened, and assuming he survived.

“Don’t you have class?” Gerard asks.

“In like,” Mikey looks down at his watch, “ten minutes. I just had to check up on you when Frank didn’t come back.”

“Oh please, Gerard wouldn’t murder me,” Frank says and then winks, because they all know that that’s not what Mikey meant.

“No I would never murder Frank. There are some other things I might do, but-”

“Okay! Alright I got it,” Mikey says, “You want me to leave, so you’re grossing me out to get me to do so. Fine. You win, it worked.”

“Yay!” Frank says, raising a lazy arm victoriously. Gerard grins at Mikey as he rolls his eyes and starts to walk back down the hall, Gerard closing the door after him. 

“You don’t have class do you?” Gerard asks when the door closes.

“I have one at noon, but that leaves us plenty of time to not get out of your bed and watch The Next Generation.”

“Why do you assume I’m just going to cuddle and watch Star Trek with you?” Gerard asks.

Frank lifts his head up out of the blankets enough to give Gerard a sideways expression that reads as, ‘seriously?’

“Alright, so you’re right, but let me have my pride,” Gerard says.

Frank grins, and rolls around for a moment, pulling his legs to his chest for Gerard to come over and sit by him, without figuring out that Frank still has a bit of a problem between his legs that he’s trying to figure out how he’s going to deal with.

“You’re really adorable, Frank.”

“Yeah I know,” Frank says, “get your laptop so that we can watch the stage lights glisten off of Patrick Stewart’s shiny head.”

“You’re insane,” Gerard states.

“Insanity is in these days.”

“No, I think it’s just you.”

“Ugh, just get your cute little aas over here and hug the shit out of me, because I’m cold,” Frank says.

Gerard laughs, grabbing his computer from his desk and then plopping down next to Frank.

“You’re bossy.”

“I know,” Frank says, grabbing a handful of Gerard’s hair and kissing the fuck out of them. Gerard sighs, but it’s the pleasant kind of sigh. The ‘go ahead, stick your tongue in my mouth, I’m perfectly okay with it’ kind of sigh.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a good kisser?” Gerard asks.

“Haven’t kissed enough people to get feedback,” Frank admits.

“Then let me be the first to say you are a very good kisser.”

“You know, by saying that though, you’re making it hard for me to kiss you, because I can’t exactly make out with you while you’re talking, so really you’re just making it so mu-”

Gerard interrupts him. The obvious way. Frank sighs the same sigh Gerard had sighed when he’d sighed. 

“Forget Captain Picard I’m just going to kiss you for the rest of my life,” Gerard says.

“That’s cool with me,” Frank replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the quickest I've updated this fic in a really long time. Yay!


	23. The Fleeting Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling shitty, I write best when I’m feeling shitty. Chapter song rec: Be Calm by fun.

“Frank, I know that this might be a lot to ask, but could you go hang out with Gerard for a little while?” 

“I’ve got class, in like,” Frank checks his wrist, realizes he’s not wearing a watch and grabs his phone from his pocket, “like twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, but you can go to your class and see Gee after, it’s just... Gee’s having a bad day,” Mikey says.

“Fuck, what? What’s wrong?” 

“Sometimes it just happens, you know? We all have bad days, Gerard just has really really _really_ bad days.”

“I’m going over there now then,” Frank says, throwing his backpack onto his bed, because really, college is expensive yes, and he’s going to be in debt for the rest of his life, but there are some things more important than it. Like the sanity of Gerard, who’s been getting worse the past few weeks very steadily. 

“But you have class,” Mikey says, as Frank’s rushing towards the door.

“You know, I do have class, but I also have a life, and people I care about.”

With that, Frank’s out the door, hurrying down the long hall which smells peculiarly of breakfast food. Smells always linger for about three days in this building, Frank’s not sure what it is about the vents, but you can always tell what smells have been through here. You can literally choke on the perfume smell outside the door of the girls at the end of the hall. 

After the incident with the vandalism of their door, Gerard’s stopped leaving their dorm for any reason at all but for class. If Frank didn’t have the sense to bring food, they’d have starved a week ago. Mikey insists that this happens sometimes and it’s nothing Frank should be concerned about, but that’s not exactly reassuring. Frank never stops worrying over Gerard. He’s almost never at ease with Mikey insisting everything’s fine, because he’s never fully okay with the fact that everything is fine.

Frank doesn’t think of himself as some cure or anything. He’s absolutely sure that there is no real cure for gender dysphoria unless you have the actual freedom to just fucking be who you are, but Gee’s got this problem with anxiety where they’re incapable of being who they are without feeling guilty, or feeling spied on, and Frank hates that Gerard can’t just be happy. That’s what he wants more than anything. He just wants to take all the crap away and let Gerard be happy. He wants to erase statistics, smash in the brains of anyone who judges, and make the world perfect for Gerard. If he had one wish, that’s what he’d do with it. Frank wants to give Gerard the world and then some.

And it kills him that he’s never going to be able to help the way he wants. He’s never going to stop the self-destruction or the external prejudice, or the fear. The only thing Frank really can do is make Gerard smile a little. If that’s what he has to settle for, he’ll do it, he absolutely will, but he wishes he had the power to make everything better. 

Frank is overly protective of Gerard. Hell, he’s like Gee’s very own protective service, and he would do anything to keep Gerard safe, but the biggest issue is that Gerard’s biggest enemy is not something Frank can protect them from. It’s Gerard. Gerard is simultaneously stranded and alone, and their own greatest enemy. 

Frank’s been getting lost in his own head a lot recently. He keeps thinking about all the things that might happen and worrying himself to sleep every night when he doesn’t get to be near Gerard. Apparently Frank’s got a knack for sympathetically worrying too much, because he cares far too much about other people. He doesn’t consider that a bad thing.

He’s in front of Gee’s door in no time. He’s not even sure how quickly he ran, but the campus is a lot smaller to him when he’s not thinking. It’s weird because the grounds are huge if he’s in a hurry to get across to another building, but if he’s not even paying attention to his feet then the walk becomes almost instantaneous. 

Only seconds after knocking, Frank’s met with, “go away!”

“I’m not going away Gee.”

There’s a huffing sound, far too exaggerated if Frank can hear it from outside the door, and then the doorknob is twisting and Gerard, draped in their duvet, answers with red eyes so sunk into their skull that it’s hard to look directly into them. 

“You’re supposed to be in class right now,” Gerard says, knowing Frank’s schedule apparently.

“I don’t care where I’m supposed to be, I’m here now,” Frank says, pushing past Gerard into the room. The door closes quickly behind him and Frank stands next to the desk before Gerard’s falling back on the mattress with a soft thud. Frank sighs and goes to sit down right next to Gerard, feet dangling over the edge, almost not touching the ground. Frank’s always seen the curse of being short as having the worst affect when his feet dangle over the edges of comparatively short seats.

“So what’s up Gee?” 

“Nothing, I don’t know why you’re here,” Gerard replies.

“I don’t believe you. Just, like let it out. I’m not gonna judge.”

“I just feel really, I don’t know, blank today.”

“Blank?” Frank asks.

“Blank,” Gerard nods.

“Blank how?”

“Like I hurt so much that I don’t have it in me to hurt anymore so I’m just sort of empty. Like an empty bottle that’s now full only of air.”

“What do you need?” Frank asks, “Do you need some time off or do you need me to go.”

“No,” Gerard says quickly, and Frank looks down at them, lets Gerard’s eyes dig into him, and he nods, letting himself lie down to be level with Gerard. From this angle Gerard looks much more vacant, like they’re only half there. It kind of reminds Frank of a do not disturb sign except for the part that Gerard looks desperate at the same time. 

“I’m going to stay here as long as you need me to, Gee,” Frank says. Gerard nods and turns their head to look up at the ceiling. They also very discreetly scoot a little closer to Frank, but he pretends not to notice. 

“I guess I’ve just been having a hard time. I was going to say ‘lately’ but I figured that would be a bit of a lie, because it’s not recent. It hasn’t been of late. It’s always kind of been there. Ever since I was able to understand the concept that not all was right with the world, that it’s not so black and white, it’s been hard. It’s always been and always will be hard. I don’t know what it is about life that just loves to kick you while you’re down, but it does. But the thing is that, I think the phrase ‘kick you while you’re down’ is a bit of a misnomer, because it’s not when you’re down that things get worse. It’s when things get really bad, and I mean really really fucking bad, and then things lighten up the slightest, such a tiny amount that you don’t even register it, but you can sort of get a breath in. That’s when you get kicked the hardest. From there you go down. You recede further. If you’d been down before than this is literally something you’ve never imagined, because every time you get sad, every single time, it’s worse than your sadness has ever been before. That’s true, it’s always worse, always, and that’s because it piles.

“There’s this big misconception with the world, that sadness can go away, and it can’t. No matter how hard you try, no matter how hard you push, it’ll always be there. Always, no matter what, sadness is never gone. It’s always there. And when you get better, it doesn’t get less, that sadness, it’s still there, it’s still there in full, it’s just been shrouded. It’s been veiled and it’s not as painful, but it is absolutely still there. You’re just not thinking about it when things start to get better, so when you feel better, when you feel your mood lightening, coming out of the dark and into a lighter world, it’s still there, it’s just hidden by a couple of layers. You’re distracted for a while, that’s all. And then when it comes back, it’s still that big pile. It’s still there and it’s still huge and it still hurts, and it hurts more than it ever has before because it’s being added onto this big ass-pile of sad. It’s like a landfill, you know? But the shit in this landfill can’t ever go away, it’s just there. It’s there and it’s always going to be there and there ain’t a thing we can do to make it go away, because it’s there. And then trash day comes and more is piled on.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Frank says.

“Well it doesn’t matter if you believe it if it’s true. You can say you don’t believe in gravity but that doesn’t make it any less of a fact.”

“But when you grow up, you start to forget. You can be sad, but in time, you forget how much it hurts, that’s what it’s about. There’s always tragedy. There’s always things to feel hurt over, but it doesn’t always cripple you. I think that’s what happens then. I don’t think it piles and piles, waiting for you to have an anxiety attack. I’m not saying that it all goes away, but some of it does. I mean, I got really down one time I forgot to save my video game, but I’m not still sad about that.”

“There’s a difference between sad and disappointed,” Gerard says, “and there’s a huge difference between depressed and sad. People think they’re synonyms but they’re not. Depression is like emptiness. Sadness is far better than depression. I would take a million years of sadness over any amount of depression, because it’s like nothing. It feels like hollowness. It feels like an ice cream scoop digging out your insides so that all you’re left with is a shell. Depression is like the next step after sadness. You only feel it when the sadness has reached a point where your body has shut down. You just can’t take it anymore so it decides to turn everything off altogether. And I feel like that right now, and I hate it. At least when you’re sad you feel something, you know? At least you know what you’re thinking, and know what you’re feeling, and it hurts, of course it does, but it’s not like this. It’s nothing like this... emptiness. Like a fucking vacuum and I hate it.”

“I wish I could make it go away, Gee, I do. And if I could I’d give anything. But I’m still here for you in any way that I can be. Okay? Like, I am here, and I am going to be here whenever you need me to be. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll do my best to give it to you.”

“I just want to be normal.”

“There’s no such thing as normal, Gee.”

“Yes there is,” Gerard replies.

“No, there really isn’t. Normalcy is a construct made up by assholes to undermine the existence of those who don’t fit a plastic casing of their ideal model who are no more or less than you or anyone else. You’re not... well, Gerard, you’re not normal, or special, or trend setting for being who you are, you’re just you. Gender isn’t a fashion statement, it’s just what you are. In the same way, I’m not normal or special for being who I am, I’m just Frank.”

“But you are special to me,” Gerard says.

“Well personality is different from gender anyway. We’re all unique, that’s ingrained, but there’s nothing special or out of the ordinary with whatever gender you are. And anybody worth a damn knows that there’s literally nothing cool or individualistic about being whatever gender you are, because it’s just fucking who you are.”

Gerard sighs, doesn’t talk for a minute and Frank looks over to watch them. Gerard’s just sort of blinking at the ceiling like they’re seeing something entirely different to what Frank is, and he wishes he could fix all the bad thoughts in their brain to see what Frank sees every time he looks at Gerard.

“The world is such a dismal place when you look at it the way I have to. I have no choice. You know how hard it is to live the way I have to? And I have no choice, it’s not a thing I get to decide. Have you ever thought about how sick it is, how absolutely appalling that we ostracize people on things they can’t change? People are marginalized, kicked to the curb, denied human rights because of a medieval practice of assigning worth to unalterable nonconformity. What the fuck is that about? What the everloving fuck is that about? Why do we do that? Why would we ever be so horrendous to each other, when we’re all we’ve got? I don’t get it. I don’t get humanity. I never have.”

Frank sighs, “See, the thing about humanity is that, as a whole, we suck. We start wars, we cause pollution, we kill for sport, we argue, we get into fights, we take away rights from people that other people have, we divide ourselves up into separate countries even though we’re all the same damn species, we do all these horrible things. We start fires, and we throw things at people, and we piss on the sidewalk, and we don’t clean up after our dogs. We’re just really shitty. We’re awful. There’s nothing that I like about us as a whole. Humans suck.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Well, see, the thing is that humans, we’re not meant to be considered as one unit. If you dissect anything as one unit you’re probably going to come up with a negative reaction to it, because negativity is much louder than positivity. It takes up much more area than positivity does. Like, you know how you weigh less on the moon than you do on planet earth, or at least, gravity provides far less pressure on the moon than it does here, but you have the same amount of mass wherever you go? So, positivity, it’s seen from the perspective of the moon, right? You’ve got the same mass of stuff, but it’s lighter, because it’s not as powerful. But back here on planet earth, you have negativity. With that shit all piled together, it weighs more. It takes up the exact same amount of space, but it’s heavier.”

“Get to your point,” Gerard replies.

“Well,” Frank says, interlacing his fingers with Gerard’s, “When you look at humanity from the outside in and you clump us all together, you’ve got a lot of Gandhi’s and Nelson Mandela’s. You’ve got a lot of really upstanding, good people. You’ve got the genius who invented air conditioning, and whoever thought to put chocolate chips into cookies. But you’ve got some Hitler’s too. You’ve got a couple Stalin’s and, hell, you’ve got some Voldemort’s and Sauron’s. But the thing is, we’ve still got good people. We don’t take big long units I school on the good people do we? I can tell you a dozen facts I’ve learned about Hitler, but I can’t tell you nearly as much about Churchill, and it’s not because I didn’t pay attention in class or anything, it’s just that we don’t focus on it as much. 

“When you go to watch a movie, literally any movie in the world, the plot is about a problem that has to be fixed. That’s what plots are about. That is what every plot ever is about. He’s gotta defeat the seven evil exes, they’ve gotta destroy the ring in Mount Doom, she’s gotta learn how to act like a princess so that she can be the queen of Genovia someday, they've gotta go to Shell City, get the crown, save the town and Mr. Krabs. You know, the plot’s always about fixing what’s wrong, and history is like that too. It’s a big self-describing fulfillment of human nature. There’s always a problem that’s got to be solved. People are the problem in this case, and that’s what we always focus on. We always focus on the shit.”

“You’re still digressing. Frank, I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but it’s not going to get us anywhere, okay? I really fucking hate humanity. Like, how can you blame me? We’ve managed to fuck everything up about this planet and we’ve only been here for like literally less than one percent of the planets existence.”

“Okay, but just hear me out. My point is that, yes, there are still people who park their car in two spaces, and people who troll on YouTube videos, but there’s always going to be the people who hold the door open for you, and the people who let you go in front of them at the checkout, and the guy who sings karaoke really unapologetically even if he’s really bad at it, and the people who leave twenty dollar tips on ten dollar orders, and the lady who sees the crying kid and gives them a balloon, and that guy who remembers your birthday even though you only ever brought it up once, and the person who buys your lunch when you ran out of money, and the cashier who hooks you up with a coupon if you don’t have one, and the friend who shaves their head if someone they care about has to go through chemo, and the person who puts an extra couple of coins in your parking meter if it’s about to run out, and for fucks sake, Gerard, there’s you. And if the world isn’t an amazing place when we’ve got all that, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“God Frank,” Gerard huffs, sounding annoyed.

“What? How did that piss you off?” Frank asks, looking sad as he looks at Gerard with his eyes that are honestly probably made from the essence of caramel and babies laughing.

“It’s not that, it’s just, I think I’m starting to realize that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“That’s probably a good thing then, because I’m pretty damn sure you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Frank says, and Gerard can’t help but to smile a little bit, which is enough for Frank. He doesn’t believe he can ever make things stop hurting, but he likes to think that he can make the fleeting moments a little brighter, and that’s what really counts. Life isn’t about a big picture. It’s not about achieving success, because you never can achieve success. You can so good things, go places, get anywhere, but you can’t _achieve_ it. The most important thing is, and always will be the present, because life is watching the world fly by in the passenger seat of the car. It’s listening to the radio over the PA system in the department store. Life isn’t made up of what you do and people you know, life isn’t even made up of you or your thoughts. Life is the fleeting moments. 

And in this fleeting moment, life isn’t perfect. Frank knows it’s not, and he knows it’s never going to be, but this fleeting moment, this is perfect. It’s perfect because Gerard is smiling, hand warm in Frank’s, and Frank’s thinking about every individual hair on Gerard’s head and how he loves every single one, and how he loves Gerard even if he’s afraid to say it. And this fleeting moment feels like a forever within no amount of time at all.

It’s now that even Gerard has to admit, life sucks, of course it does, but there’s no doubt in their mind that life is pretty good too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I know it's been a while, but hopefully this was a good chapter. And maybe it's worth commenting on? I love you guys anyway for sticking with this story for so long.


	24. I Wanna Scream "I Love You" From the Top of My Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I don’t give a fuck if someone else hears me.

“Do you ever think about the monsters of the world and wonder how they got that way? And wonder if they even know that they are monsters at all?”

Gerard snorts, “Okay, anymore?”

“When you think about it, the meaning of life is simply to give life a meaning,” Frank replies.

“Wow, very deep. You’re truly amazing.”

“I could start a book with all the gold I’m giving you. Profound Thoughts, by Frank Iero,” he replies, frowning at the fact that Gerard’s laughing when she should really be sitting in a fetal position questioning the reality of her life by now. Frank’s half expecting her to have some sort of moment where she gazes into the camera in The Office and just blinks a few times in amazement, but it hasn’t happened yet, and Frank’s starting to feel offended by her lack of existential crisis.

“They’re beautiful, Frank, really. But they stopped being wise after about the fourth one. The one about the metaphorical implications of our hearts being considered the part of us that love even though all they do is pump blood or whatever.”

“I said it way better than that,” Frank replies.

“Yeah, but I was only paraphrasing.”

“Paraphrasing my ass, call that butchering,” Frank says, mock angry, and crossing his arms. He watches Gerard pulling on a pair of shoes, not sure if they really go with the rest of the outfit, but he’s really not that great at clothes matching and regularly wears mismatched clothes, so who is he to judge. But really, whatever Gerard wears will look great because it’ll be Gerard wearing it.

“I’m sorry. You are a real poet, you know that?” Gerard says.

“If that was sarcastic I’m going to throw my tic tacs at you,” Frank says.

“No tic tac throwing will be necessary, I really do think you’re a poet.”

Frank frowns, but he doesn’t voice his skepticism. “I could write a poetry book. Call it “’Gerard and Other Poems.’”

“Oh, and how would ‘Gerard’ go?” 

“Uh something like, Gerard is prettier than you, deal with it.   
Gerard has a cute nose and think’s I’m a good poet.  
Gerard’s the cuter brother, don’t tell Mikey.  
Gerard wears shoes, but they are not Nike.   
Gerard is honestly so fucking cute.  
Gerard looks damn sexy wearing a suit.  
Gerard looks damn sexy in a dress too.   
Gerard has a healthy respect for the Beatles, Goo goo ga’joo.”

Gerard snorts, “That’s fucking beautiful, that is. How come you’re not a poetry major?”

“I don’t think that’s even a thing. Is that a thing? I should’ve been a poetry major, fuck! It’s too late, someone had better just kill me now, I’ve made a huge mistake. My dream to become Walt Whitman is shattered.”

“Walt Whitman? Seriously Frank?” Gerard asks.

“Okay fine, Dr. Seuss, but let’s be honest here, Gee, who would you rather read? Mr. Long Convoluted Similes or Mr. I Do Not Like Green Eggs And Ham, I Do Not Like Them Sam I Am.”

“You make a valid point,” Gerard says, nodding and falling back onto the bed next to Frank. Gerard is feeling feminine today, and Frank’s spent the last twenty minutes trying to perfect her outfit. Even if she doesn’t leave her dorm, she deserves to look like a goddess which is not exactly hard to achieve. Frank was explicit that she should wear a red dress, something about the color complimenting ‘the perfect fucking color of your hair, hot damn, you look like a supermodel. You know who pulls off jet black hair better than you? Trick question, the answer is no one at all.’ 

“There’s a slight issue with your outfit, Gee,” Frank says, looking down at Gerard who’s lying with her back against the bed.

“What?” Gerard asks, worried all of a sudden.

“You literally cannot go outside like that without making everyone around you jealous. Well, they’d probably be mostly jealous of me though, because I get to date you, but you could seriously give someone a heart attack when you look that amazing. You could literally blind someone with how fucking beautiful you are. I mean, but at the same time, it’s an insult to the world not to grace it with your presence. Everyone on this campus who is not here right now in this very room looking at you, is missing out on quite possibly the most amazing moment that this earth has ever seen ever, because you could literally stop traffic. Hell, you could stop the _earth_ from _spinning_ if you tried.”

Gerard blushes, and Frank is worried for the safety of his own heart, he loves Gerard so much and he wants to just shower them with every compliment in the books. He wants to tell Gerard she is the prettiest human being on the planet, and that it doesn’t matter the tiniest bit what anyone else thinks, because he would move a mountain for Gerard. He just doesn’t know how to say it. 

“You don’t mean that.”

“I could say anything, give you any compliment in the world, and it would be as true as one plus one being two, but I don’t think you’d believe it.”

“Well, yeah because it wouldn’t be true.”

“Nope it would all be true. Gerard, I could say you’re the best rocket scientist in the world, and you wouldn’t be able to dispute it because if you were ever to perform rocket science, you would be the best at it, and if your skill isn’t as good as everyone else around you, you’d still be way hotter than any of them, so who’s the real winner there.”

“You’re full of crap,” Gerard shakes her head, “but please go on.”

“Whoever the hell made that dress should be paying you to wear it. Hell, they should be paying you to live on the same planet as someone so perfect. But you know what this outfit really needs though?” Frank says.

“What?”

“Fucking bright red lipstick. I’m not talking any tame coral or anything, Gee, I mean Rocky Horror, slay the red carpet, make the Kool Aid guy jealous red lipstick.”

“I don’t have any that red,” Gerard replies, grinning.

“Well fuck, this is a travesty. How much is lipstick anyway?” Frank asks, “Like, I’ve never bought lipstick, how much are we talking.”

“Okay, first of all, you are not going to buy me lipstick, I don’t need it and it’s not that big of a deal, and secondly, it’s based on how willing you are to spend money. It can really range anywhere from two bucks to a couple dozen.”

“Twelve bucks?” Frank asks exasperatedly. 

“Sometimes more than twelve. Often more than twelve actually.”

“What the fuck? I hope it’s made out of diamonds, and unicorn tears and the blood of your enemies at that price. Fuck, I’ll still buy you red lipstick though. Still definitely will. This broke man is willing to do anything to make people jealous of his cute-ass girlfriend.”

“But I don’t want any,” Gerard replies.

“Okay well I can also buy you a red cupcake and it’ll have basically the same effect, but will be much more appetizing, and when people ask me why I have frosting all over my face I’ll be able to respond with ‘because I made out with the hottest chick ever, that’s why.’”

“You’re delusional if you think I’m going to wear frosting as makeup.”

“So that’s not a decisive answer on the making out though...” Frank points out.

“Idiot,” Gerard murmurs before grabbing the back of Frank’s neck and pulling him down, which he’s not about to protest. Frank has got to admit, Gerard looks very good in red. It’s a great color on them. Also, he’s very much in support of Gerard’s dress, nothing is lovelier than seeing her beaming like that when Frank gets to say that Gerard is gorgeous beyond all belief.

“Hey Frankie,” Gerard says, looking up at Frank, who’s doing his best to lean over her without crushing her, but Frank’s not very tall and he weighs like six and a half pounds in total, so really, his biggest worry is in the fact that he might just fall out of the bed if Gerard so much as breathes too strongly. Then again, he’s already running the risk of being blown away by Gerard’s very existence. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Depends on what kind of secret it is,” Frank says, “do you have the coordinates to the Lost City of Atlantis?” 

“Sadly I do not,” Gerard answers.

“Okay well that’s a bit of a disappointment but I’ll here you out if I must.”

“You sure you wanna hear? It might be a bit of a letdown if you were expecting to find Atlantis.”

“Nothing you say could be a letdown,” Frank says, “unless you tell me that you like Dumbledore better than Gandalf, because if you’re unable to see how much better Gandalf’s badassery is, than this really isn’t going to work out.”

“Right so, it’s good to know that the continuation of our relationship is based on my preference of fictional wizards.”

“Don’t you dare call Dumbledore and Gandalf fictional!”

“I’m ever so sorry, it seems I’ve misspoken. I meant _frictional_ wizards,” Gerard says.

“Frictional? What’s that mean then?”

“Uh, it means that if you were to be stupid enough to think that Dumbledore was better than Gandalf, it would cause a great amount of friction.” 

“Ah I see,” Frank nods, giggling. He pulls himself up and then lies back down next to Gerard, putting his head in the crook of Gerard’s neck. “So what was this secret then?” 

“What? Oh, I just wanted to tell you that I’m in love with you.”

Frank, who a second ago was not taking anything either of them said seriously, now feels like the whole world has shifted within a matter of seconds. Because that’s something Gerard tells him when Frank’s having a really good dream. That’s what he hears inside his head when he’s drifting off during class. He hears Gerard saying that they love Frank, at every hour of the day, in a hundred different scenarios, but never has it ever been real.

“What?” he asks, not sure that his mind isn’t playing tricks on him.

“You don’t have to say it back, I just think it is important for you to know, because if I don’t tell you then it’s like I’m lying to you, but, like, I love you, so I don’t want to lie to you.”

“I don’t have to...” Frank drifts off, before popping up to look over at Gerard clearly, “are you kidding me? Of course I have to say it back, otherwise it’d be like lying back to you. I love you too, dumbass.”

“Dumbass? Should you really be calling me a dumbass after I’ve confessed my love to you? Should you really be calling me a dumbass after you reciprocated it?”

“Yes,” Frank says, “I should absolutely be calling you a dumbass.”

“Well alright. I guess I should’ve known what I was signing up for the minute I first heard you call my brother a shitdick.”

“Well, Gee, I hate to break it to you this way, but your brother _is_ a shitdick.” 

“I’ve known him a while, Frank, I’m aware of his shitdickiness.”

Frank snorts at that, his head falling onto Gee’s chest, “shitdickiness? Really?”

“I am not the poet, Frank,” Gerard replies.

“No, you’re certainly not.”

“But you still wuv me right?” Gerard asks, putting on this face like a small puppy stuck outside in the rain, and Frank’s pretty sure his heart melts like that guy’s face in Raiders of the Lost Ark. 

“I can’t believe that the first person I said ‘I love you’ to, is you. You are a gigantic dork. You are an unparalleled, light saber owning, comic book hoarding dork, and I’m the idiot who’s gone and fallen in love with you. When the fuck did this even start to happen?”

Gerard beams at him, batting her eyelashes, “probably about the same time you called my brother a shitdick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shitdickiness? Shitdickedness? Shitdickery? It doesn't matter, what does matter is that it is Patrick Stump's birthday and Patrick Stump is life. Patrick Stump is love. Patrick Stump is air.


End file.
